Teen Titans: Alternate Reality
by Wordmage Kazzidae
Summary: Terra should have been turned to stone. She should have forgotten all about the Titans and led a normal life. But what if somebody high up in the order of the universe didn't like that...?
1. Prologue

Teen Titans: Alternate Reality

* * *

Prologue: Tara's Fate

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**Author's Notes:** This prologue is the result of my having rewritten the first chapter at least five times now. Each and every time it turned out that, to establish and rationalise Terra's rather extreme and perhaps even violent emotions at the time of the volcanic eruption, I was constantly forced to explain some of her life story. As one can imagine, this makes it extremely difficult to keep the narrative flowing nicely, as every second paragraph has to be the rationalisation of the one that came before it.

So, to solve this problem, I have decided to neatly split the narrative and life story in two, and thus save any breaks in the narrative flow. Many of you Teen Titans fans will already know of the events chronicled in the cartoon series' version of the Judas Contract plot arc, which is explained towards the end, but I have also included details of Terra's earlier life.

The history detailed in this prologue is, by and large, invented by me. Although Terra's earlier life is explained quite sufficiently in the comic book version of her life, the alternate Terra presented in the cartoon is a lot different, and no sufficient explanation of her early life is given; or at least, if there is, then I couldn't find it. Translation: Wikipedia didn't have it.

So, because there is no already existing history of her life in the cartoons, I have written one here. I have based the events on how we find her in the cartoon, and I have tried to avoid deviating from the comic where at all possible. I took the nervous but lovable Terra from the cartoon, and thought; 'What kind of life could make someone become like this?'

Well, what follows is the answer that I came up with. Read on, intrepid reader; do what you do best.

-x-

It is a dilemma that faces all authors; the constant reminder that there are any number of ways in which the plot could go. Usually events turn out best for the good characters, if any, but even so there are myriad permutations even with just this simple haze code.

Take the life story of one Tara Markov, for instance. To look at her, an averagely pretty blond-haired and blue-eyed teenage girl, you wouldn't find much to remark upon. This is why you must never fully trust what your eyes tell you.

She was the latest generation of the royal family of Markovia. One would have assumed Tara, or Terra as her superheroine moniker was, to have then led a comfortable life amongst the luxuries afforded her by royal status.

The sad truth is that her father saw fit to carry out experiments on his own daughter to see if he could develop within her the same terrakinetic powers belonging to her half-brother, Geo-Force. Although having powers like Terra's may be great, the attitude of her people and even her own family was less than desirable.

The more powerful Tara became, the more others pushed her away, or more sinisterly in the case of her own family held her close, locking Tara away from the world as the experiments continued. Her difference was to be hated and exploited, not to be enjoyed and developed.

It was only a matter of time before Tara could take no more of this. She hoped that by fleeing her own people she could find someone abroad who would care for her; people who did not fear and hate her just because she was different. After all, it was an official secret that Tara Markov was only _half_ royal. Her mother, whomsoever she may have been, was definitely not of Markovia. Perhaps if Tara found her mother's homeland…?

It was at long last that Tara reached the far shores of the United States, determined to find who her true parents were. Although some reacted to her in the customary fashion of prejudiced revulsion, it seemed that fewer people feared her power here. Tara learned that there were many superhumans in this country… _people like her_.

Although she had never purposely meant to meet the Teen Titans, it was difficult to imagine a group that better suited her needs. The instinctive anonymity Tara's travels had forced upon her was a slight hindrance, but it seemed that Fate had finally decided to let Tara off the hook.

These were people just like her. The Titans had superhuman powers as Terra did, and everybody in their city treated them with the utmost respect and admiration. Tara had never imagined such a state of affairs as being possible; this was utopia for her.

If that wasn't enough, the Titans also took a liking to her, and there was no question whatsoever that Terra was to be one of them. Here was a place where she could finally relax and not have to care about such things as food and shelter. Tara was now among people who not only liked her, but treated her as though she was normal. For the first time in her life, Tara Markov felt as though she _belonged_, and not just to somewhere.

There was this boy. Beast Boy, the others called him. From the first there was something about the way he perpetually smiled that pulled on her heartstrings. Their becoming best friends was inevitable… or at least, it should have been. Fate was indeed fickle, and some might have said cruel, for now that Tara was truly happy she was to find once again that her fortunes had turned for the worse.

Tara, despite the accepting circle of similar friends she had found, still had insecurities. She placed her trust entirely in Beast Boy concerning the tendency for her superpower to sometimes break from her control, and when the secret somehow got out Terra construed this as a breach of that trust.

Once again, Tara was alone of her own volition, having run from the boy who had broken what trust there had been between them. For the socially crippled Tara, even this slightest hint of rejection was enough. Just when it seemed as though there was nowhere left to turn to, _he_ appeared.

Slade promised Terra the utter destruction of those who had so uncaringly driven her away. Indeed, he was going to let Terra finish them herself. The feelings of hurt and rejection she felt were more than enough to overcome any liking Terra had ever had for the Titans, even for Beast Boy… for the moment.

Slade's plans involving Terra's deceit of the Titans only barely failed. In the end, her feelings for Beast Boy had led to the plan's downfall. Being so close to Beast Boy reminded Tara exactly what it was she saw in him, but she was not the only one who was easily hurt. They had grown closer over the time Terra had rejoined the Titans, and the revelation of her betrayal was more than Beast Boy could forgive. Once again Terra found herself rejected, and with only Slade to turn to.

Another stratagem was formulated; this time to remove the Titans' main advantage of numbers and teamwork by the old idea of 'divide and conquer'. Again, it came within a hair's width of success. Terra's hate for the Titans was such that she drove each of them into the abyss, believing each and every one of them to be dead. For a terrible few days, Slade had free reign of the city.

Then the Titans seemingly resurrected, chasing both Terra and Slade back to the volcano within which their base of operations was housed. Beast Boy arrived first and, even though the Titans had chosen to give no mercy, he tried to give Terra the chance to redeem herself, offering his life to her should she want it.

However much Tara hated Beast Boy and the Titans, she could not bring herself to kill her one and only ever best friend, especially now that he had shown her that their friendship was still very much intact. So it was that Slade was to be the final receiver of Terra's betrayals, leading to his death.

However, because of the nature of her powers, Terra had inadvertently triggered the volcano to erupt. Sharing one last precious moment with Beast Boy, possibly the last person she'd ever see, Tara Markov attempted to stop the eruption, her terrakinetic power meaning that she was the only possible saviour of Jump City.

This story starts here, at the end of a capricious and callous chain of events. So far, Tara Markov has lived a life that has only ever presented her with good fortune so that it can be taken away.

One particular version of this story deviates from this point, claiming that Terra was in fact petrified as a result of the overuse of her powers. That should have happened here, but it did not… and all because of a single decision that was made in a time and place that no human could ever exist in, let alone hear of.

…Because, somewhere up there, there really _is_ somebody who likes Terra.

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	2. Chapter One

Teen Titans: Alternate Reality

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Chapter One: No More

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**Author's Notes:** The version of Death used in this chapter is in fact taken straight from the pages of Discworld, created by Terry Pratchett. This is, after all, fan-fiction, and you can go on and on about original characters until you finally realise that the whole point of it is that the characters _aren't yours_. If you're going to use unoriginal characters, you might as well do it properly and use as many as you can fit in.

Besides, I have a soft spot for the Death of the Discworld. He falls under the character class of 'eccentric outsider', much like Starfire, although only more so. Death isn't only not human, he's not even alive. Still, even skeletons can be nice at times… their skulls are always smiling.

-x-

The walls of the volcano stretched up and over Terra's head, covered in jutting lumps of malformed rock, some of which looked like the teeth of some massive and malicious creature of the underworld. If that was true, then Terra was standing right in its mouth, waiting to be devoured.

Although the walls did end high above, even the little light that came through the empty circle at the top of the cone only served to highlight just how dirty and fuliginous the air of the volcano was. Great torrents of steam and smoke billowed up from every surface, stinging at Terra's eyes and making her chest heave with the effort of extracting even the smallest amount of life-giving oxygen.

And of course, perhaps inevitably, there was the sea of magma below; an infernal pit of liquid fire, sizzling, crackling and searing in its heat, melting away the very walls that contained it. Periodically the base of a column would give way, causing the rest of it to crash into the lava below, causing great red gobbets of the stuff to fly far and wide.

Terra moved the rocky platform on which she stood higher, trying to find a place where the magma wouldn't splash onto her and the air was actually breathable and didn't try to blind her. Thankfully the interior of the volcano was voluminous, and Terra quickly found a place where she could think rationally and collect her thoughts for the arduous, most possibly lethal task ahead.

She stood, staring down through the sooty smoke to the lava below. It belched continuously, its level slowly rising. Terra's stare was every bit as withering as the magma's heat. Just when it had seemed as though everything would be alright, this godforsaken lump of rock just had to wake up and erupt.

Terra cracked her gloved fingers professionally. She could feel the anger rising within her, the burning fury filling her mind and soul like the magma was doing to the volcano.

Tara Markov had spent her whole life running away; from her family, from her friends. For once in her life, Terra was going to show the world exactly what stern stuff she was made of, and failure was not an option. Not this time.

All those times before, Terra had run away because she had only herself to worry about. Now it was different. If Terra failed to stand up and take the heat, as it were, then she wouldn't be the only one who'd get hurt as a result.

Tara had told Beast Boy as they'd parted that they were best friends. Now she was regretting it. There was something else she'd just decided she wanted to tell him, and if she lived through this neither Hell nor high water would stop her from telling him the pure, simple and beautiful truth.

'I love you, Garfield Logan.'

-x-

Mator Kesh, the Ashen Giant, the long-forgotten god and sovereign of the volcano had just woken up. And he was _angry_. Not that this would have come as a surprise to anyone who knows anything about volcano gods; they are selected for their spectacular ability to become enraged at the smallest thing, and then spend the rest of their time sleeping. Sort of like Santa Claus, except the presents are a lot hotter.

He roared aloud, shaking the very foundations of his earthen home. The stone walls shook and trembled before his might, but Terra stood fast.

Through his rage, Mator Kesh noticed Terra. He knew this was the person who had woken him by defiling his sacred domicile. The god grinned morbidly. He was going to enjoy incinerating this mere scrap of a human girl.

The Ashen Giant reached down, pulling great swathes of magma up from below the Earth's crust. It was time to have a little house-warming party.

-x-

Unbeknownst to either Tara or the volcano god, a horse and rider had just arrived. This in itself may not have been at all odd, but most horses prefer not to walk through solid walls.

The horse itself was pure white. If an advertiser ever wanted to sell a horse hygiene product, this would be the one they'd call in for the auditions. Not only was it perfectly pristine, untouched by the ash of the cave even as the smoke rolled over it, but there was also a gleam of superhorse intelligence in its wide black eyes.

Its rider wore a hooded cloak of shaped midnight, and held the reins in long, skeletal fingers of bleached white. The scythe he held in his other hand was sinuously curved, arcing back over and behind his head. Its blade constantly shone blue, cutting through the very air itself whenever it moved.

Death looked down at Terra, seeing the world without eyes. To look into his eye sockets was to see the cold void of infinity, highlighted by icy blue gleams.

The horse cantered to a stop, standing on nothing. Gravity was something that happened to other horses.

Death let go of the reins, and held out a hand, palm up. Appearing very suddenly, like the cameraman of the universe had just paused until somebody put it there and kept going, was an hourglass. This was no mere hourglass, though; it was a life-timer.

It was made out of dark, lustrous mahogany, varnished until it was as smooth and shiny as the glass of the bulbs. Four posts, cut to look exactly like finger bones, strengthened the life-timer's structure, holding the two round and flat discs together. The sand inside gleamed and glinted, for it was in fact no such thing as sand; each of the infinitesimally tiny grains was a second, slipping slowly through the thin bottleneck between the bulbs.

Finally, clearly legible on the golden plate that was screwed to the thicker bottom disc, was the name '_Tara Markov_'.

Oddly enough, there was still quite a lot of sand left in the top bulb. Either way, there were other reasons for Death being there.

Since Tara was having a near-death experience, it logically followed that Death had to have a near-Tara experience. Also, Death not only had the power to end lives, but to lengthen them or, in this case, freeze them. It happened more regularly than you might have thought; people sometimes fall into comas.

Death could quite clearly see the golden thread which linked Tara's heart to… what? With a slight crackle of bone, he turned in his saddle and looked through the wall, following the golden thread. Apparently the other end was attached to an oddly green bird, but that didn't fool Death. People who can see through (and indeed _go_ through) solid walls can quite easily see who somebody really is.

_**I**__t really is a shame, __**B**__inky,_ said Death, in the tones of knelling funeral bells. He didn't really speak as such, since his jawbone stayed quite still; the words just appeared out of nowhere, suddenly and inexplicably. _**T**__hese two are in love, and now __**I**__ must separate them. __**S**__till, duty is duty._

The horse rolled its eyes. His master could be so whimsical at times.

-x-

Another problem that most authors face is the insistence of various technical details to get in the way of proper description. Because the author can easily appreciate that the vast majority of his readers are probably not all that well versed in how volcanoes work and/or may not have seen _Dante's Peak_, it would be best to get the technicalities out of the way first.

Some volcanoes form a plug or dome over time which seals away any magma. This is all well and fine, but if an eruption eventually does come and is pressurised too much, possibly by the dome, then this will result in what is known in the vernacular as 'pyroclastic flow'.

Pyroclastic flow is, quite basically, a ground-hugging wall of superheated gases travelling at speeds of about 600 km/h and measuring a temperature of over 1,000 degrees C. In other words, anything that is close to the volcano's slopes when it blows is going to get first flattened and then incinerated quicker than you can say 'Can I have that toasted, please?'

Now you know what Terra is up against, please read on.

-x-

Terra was fully aware of what the volcano could do if she failed. But that was not going to happen. Failure was not an option.

Extending her arms out towards the volcano's walls, Terra activated her superpower; her clear blue eyes instantly flashed orange, glowing with sustained energy.

Sickening cracks rang out through the volcano chamber as clumps of rock were torn from the walls. With the slightest twitches of her fingers, Terra urged the flock of boulders down into the torrid sea of lava still rising below her. The rocks weren't sentient, but even if they were there was no contradicting Terra's will.

Her face was a mask of purest hatred, glaring at the magma through the smoke. This is what happens when you subject a superheroine to a life spent in fear and doubt of almost everything. Right then, everything that had ever gone wrong with Terra's life was coming back to her in one rush of concentrated resentment; the experiments on her as a child, being irrevocably alone for ages on end, being hated and feared by normal humans, and finally of course the betrayals and double-crossings of the last few weeks.

Tara Markov had been subject to Fate's cruel whims for too long. Now, _Tara_ was in charge.

But the thing that stung the most, the fear which was still so powerful in her mind as to be almost a contest for her rage, was the possibility that she might never get to tell Garfield those words. Tara didn't care for her life for herself; she only cared about staying alive for him.

A single tear rolled down her smooth face, dropping to the rock surface below where it instantly sizzled away into the grit-filled air. Tara wasn't even sure what she felt any more; her mind was crowded by all the primary instincts that have seen humanity through the ages, and each of them was clamouring for attention just as loud as they possibly could. Anger, fear and sorrow fought for control, becoming louder even than the combined cacophony of the crunching rock and the roiling magma – and then Terra felt a deep rumble shake the entire volcano.

Slowly but surely, the lava was rising again.

'Forget what you're feeling,' said a part of Tara's mind that was older than all the others. 'Just survive.' And that's what she did. A nimbus of orange light encircled Terra as her power stretched throughout the volcano.

Attempt for a moment, dear reader, to picture this in your mind; below is the miasma of red, orange and yellow, the scorched black which coats the walls a by-product of the acrid smoke wafting up in clouds. A smell unlike any other, save perhaps for a foundry, permeates the very air you breathe; every single last impurity that has been melted out of the solid rock is trying to make you choke.

And high above, almost invisible through the haze, is a small platform crackling with orange light, as around it rock and stone pulls away from the volcano wall as though torn off by massive unseen hands, plunging into the lava with abandon.

In the fight with Slade, Terra had inadvertently made a crack in the volcano's plug, which she was now attempting to seal with whatever material came to hand. Fortunately, the volcano's very own walls were helping to stem its impending eruption.

But then again, it always looks so deceptively easy when written down, doesn't it?

-x-

It has been noted that amputees sometimes still feel as though their missing limbs are still there, as a result of nerve memory. Something more or less similar was happening to Beast Boy, except that this time it wasn't his own limbs that concerned him. The memory of Tara's arms around him in that last tender yet sorrowful embrace still lingered like a ghost in his senses.

Still, as Death said, duty is duty, and there were things to be done. There was the distinct possibility that Terra may not actually stop the eruption. After all, who could blame her for failing against a volcano? So, at Robin's orders, the Titans were then stood at its base. The volcano shuddered visibly, causing boulders to bound down its face and running tremors through the ground.

"There isn't enough time for a mass evacuation," said Robin, his long experience at quickly coming to terms with new and adverse situations paying off. "If the volcano blows, it's gonna happen soon. There's no question that Terra is the only one who can stop it, but even if she fails we might be able to minimise the eruption's power. If you all concentrate your powers, we might just be able to collapse the volcano in on itself and stop the lava flow. Starfire, I need you to take me to the weaker spots on the volcano's surface; a few explosives might help."

"But you'll crush Terra!" Beast Boy burst out.

"I think she'll have a lot more to worry about that just being crushed if she can't stop the eruption," Robin answered, his nerves tested. He stared his green compatriot in the eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Beast Boy; I need you to do this… for Terra, if nobody else."

Beast Boy was considering this just as the tremors became violently obvious, and it became an issue just to stand up.

"Everyone get in the air _now_!"

-x-

The Ashen Giant was astonished. Surely no human should be able to contravene his ultimate power over the volcano? Yet it was happening; the girl who had first woken him had extraordinary powers and was trying – no, _succeeding_ in keeping him at bay.

Mator Kesh was if anything even more incandescent with rage than before. No-one but _no-one_ resisted the will of a god! If this girl was so foolhardy then she would just have to pay the ultimate price for it.

Letting loose another earth-shaking roar which could be felt for miles around, Mator Kesh doubled his efforts, summoning yet more magma from the Earth's bowels. Lava spewed forth into the volcanic chamber, attempting to break through the plug which Terra was still repairing.

The volcano god laughed arrogantly. No mere human was going to best him, let alone live to tell the tale. This girl had just assured her own passage to Hell on Earth.

-x-

Terra could sense the changes; the increased flow trying to break through the dome. The pressure was tremendous, and now she was not only trying to fill the crack but also hold the two sides of the plug together, pushing back against the endless supply of molten lava.

The aura of orange that surrounded Terra shone more brightly, her long hair slowly rising as bolts of her energy crackled through the air and earthed into the rock, scarring all it touched.

Tara felt utterly exhausted. Just because her power was mentally controlled it does not mean that it didn't take a toll on her physical being as well, and Tara was sure she could feel parts of her mind and body shutting down due to sheer lack of energy. Tara's vision blurred, her legs juddering as they only just kept her upright.

But in place of her energy, there was pure willpower. The human body, however many flaws it may have, also has many advantages. One of them is that it can very often stretch beyond normal limits thanks to such stimulants as adrenaline, and right now Tara's body was working overtime, every fibre of her being operating at murderous efficiency.

The human body isn't meant to take this kind of strain. Tara knew very well that, if she kept going at this rate for even a few seconds longer, she would die.

'I can't die,' said the small, frightened voice at the back of Tara's head, like a small girl hidden in a dark corner. 'How can I die when I still haven't lived yet?'

'This has to end. _Now._'

Dragging up whatever reserves she had left, Terra practically ripped the volcano's walls down and plunged them into the depths of the torrid sea below, screaming aloud as the effort took her beyond fatigue and into pain. Her mind fixed intently on why she was staying alive and the reason for her existence, Terra forced together the two broken halves of the plug with a massive crunch of rock.

That was it. Whatever had kept Tara going now left her, even her up until now indomitable will finally spent. Darkness filled her mind, the mercy of oblivion relieving Tara of her earthly pains and cares.

-x-

Death snapped his fingers, and the 'clack' of bone on bone rang out clear as a bell. This action was more for dramatic effect as much as anything else, but there were certain conditions about maintaining style.

The stoppage of time gave the world a slight blue tinge, as though somebody had placed a blue gel screen over the camera lens of the world. The volcano stood absolutely static, every single last particle of smoke nailed in place against the board of unreality.

Binky the white horse, realising that both his master's hands were occupied by the scythe and the life-timer and that he could not therefore urge his mount onwards, took the initiative and trotted down to where Tara was. As aforementioned, Binky was smarter than the average horse, and he knew what was required of him without orders.

Death dismounted, carefully resting his scythe against Binky's flank. He only needed the life-timer for this.

Tara had been frozen in time just like everything else, just the instant before her legs gave way and let her fall to the ground. Death gave her features an impassive glance.

He had heard of beauty before, but had never been exactly sure what it was. Such qualities intrigued Death, as he was very interested in the people he had to work with, not being human himself. As far as he could tell, there were two kinds of beauty; superficial and spiritual. Death took this moment of un-time to observe Tara.

She must have been beautiful to some extent; otherwise the green human would never have fallen in love with her. Apparently the blond hair and blue eyes were supposed to make a human girl look pretty. Death was by no means an expert in this field; he was just basing his observations on hearsay.

As for spiritual beauty, searching Tara's soul revealed her to be a somewhat reticent but unusually kind person. Death decided that he preferred this kind of beauty; it was a lot less confusing. Besides, no-one knew better than he that superficial beauty only lasted so long; looks faded quickly, whereas the personality remained as long as there was a mind and body for it to be in.

Looking up, Death saw that the light was greyed by dust and smoke. He waved a few bony fingers above his head as though swatting at an annoying fly, and the smoke cleared away, shedding some light on Tara. Upon closer observation, Tara's blond hair made almost golden by the unhindered light, Death had to admit that even superficial beauty was probably worth it.

Death decided that he wasn't really getting anywhere with his human studies, and set aside this particularly knotty problem for a later date. After all, he had all the time in the world, but unfortunately most of it was taken up by duty. Death held up the life-timer so he could see it clearly, and raised his free hand to it, extending an index finger.

He stopped. Something made Death look up.

There was a blue corona of brilliant light hovering near by, smaller points of white orbiting it like electrons would an atom. Although it was difficult to see, it was just about possible to make out the faint figure of a human man in the blue light; not so much by where the light was, but by where it wasn't.

_**G**__reetings,_ said Death formally, lowering his hand and bowing slightly. After all, you have to show respect to the boss. Yes, even Death has his superiors. _**I**__s something not as it should be?_

"Not quite," said the blueness, speaking with a normally deep and resonant voice unlike Death's silent yet booming words, "but something might not have been as it will be."

_**A**__m I to understand that there has been a change in plan?_ Death inquired.

"Indeed there has. Tara Markov is not to be petrified, and neither is she to have her memories erased. She will live unhindered, and live longer as a result of the change."

Death's eyes flicked to the life-timer. There was only a few months' worth of sand in there now.

_**H**__ow much longer?_ he asked.

"Factor in Tara's superheroine status and the boy Garfield Logan, not to mention all her other friends. You may be as generous as you wish, for she will only really be needed alive for my purposes for a short while." Although Death's skull was perpetually fixed in a smile, sometimes it meant the shape it took.

_**Y**__ou are too kind, your lordship,_ said Death appreciatively.

"No; just as kind as I need to be," said the blue light, the man within it returning the smile. "Now go to your duty, Death. See it done."

The blue light slowly winked out of existence, and Death inclined his head respectfully as it went. Not all bosses are draconian, and some actually earned the respect given to them.

Although Death's job was normally to take lives, he could also give life back, although this required special permission. That was one of the reasons why he liked it; giving something as precious as life was a rare treat.

There was only the issue of how long her life should be. Death pondered this for a while, and then suddenly hit upon an idea, taking care not to snap his fingers again as he did so.

He held out his other hand, and in it appeared a life-timer inscribed with the name '_Garfield Logan_'. Death measured his life-span in the way that only he could, and dismissed Garfield's life-timer. He then raised a finger to Tara's and tapped it just like _this_.

Instead of freezing the sand, small bolts of blue electricity spread throughout the top bulb, increasing the sand within it until she had a life that ended just as Garfield's did. He did not wish either Tara or Garfield to know the pain of losing their love, and had thus made sure that they ended their days together.

Binky sighed in that way only horses have of doing which makes it sound like a loud 'harrumph'. His master was a kind _skeleton_. Even Binky could clearly see what was wrong with this picture.

_**M**__y work here is done,_ said Death, with more than a touch of professional pride and accomplishment. _**L**__et us be going, __**B**__inky._

The white horse gave Tara one last glance before turning about. What was so special about this girl that his lordship had intervened? Still, that wasn't his place to ask. It's very difficult to speak any human language when you're a horse.

As he rode back through the wall Death snapped his fingers again, allowing time to once more flow into the world. Now that gravity had time to work in it set about making sure that Tara fell to the ground.

It was an odd collapse, making it look as though Tara was actually just curling in on herself, not having enough energy even to fall over properly.

It wasn't long before voices drew close and running footsteps sounded in the volcano…

* * *


	3. Chapter Two

Teen Titans: Alternate Reality

* * *

Chapter Two: Invisible Answers

* * *

**Author's Notes:** The first part of this chapter, although it may seem somewhat auxiliary, was born out of a pressing need on my part to make the elemental characters (who have played such a big part in the proceedings of this story ever since it was created) a bit more believable, and basically more human.

I wanted to give a bit of background on at least Rothfar, since he is the most dominant of the elementals with the possible exception of Nereya, and if I get a chance the other elementals will also be filled out to make them look more the part of being the grand high elementals of their order.

I hope you like Zhax. I am hoping to develop this new character to the point where she is pivotal for at least one plot point, mainly because I like her kind of character; the 'enigmatic shadow' (I won't spoil the surprise for you by going into further detail; suffice it to say she is extremely cool).

I also have to apologise about the old man. Sometimes I invent things like him to add a bit of comedy relief to an otherwise rather depressing introspective scene. Please, forgive me; I don't do doom and gloom all that well, although I'd be more than happy to point you to a fellow writer who can.

And, should any readers feel like drawing the throne room and/or Rothfar the Ever-Flame, please feel free to do so. Please, please, _please_ do so; I can't draw for toffee.

Oh, and Edit/Preview note: I checked about the reference to the episode 'Fear Itself' at the end, and it _is_ canon... _just_. It falls between 'Only Human' ('I don't know who you are or where you come from but I just kicked your virtual butt!') and 'Date With Destiny' ('He's got a spider for a head. Not like he's gonna be hard to find.'), two episodes after 'Terra' (where, surprise surprise, the Titans first meet Terra) and three episodes before 'Titan Rising', the first episode in the six consecutive episodes which cover Terra's betrayal and redemption and which this fic continues on from.

I have just decided that, to stay truly canon, the fic shall follow the course of the episodes - except, of course, Terra is there this time, meaning there will be differences, thus staying true to the whole spirit of 'What If?' that started off this whole debacle. The episodes after 'Aftershock Part 2' are 'Deception' and 'X', so you can bet your bottom dollar that the next fic in the series (any ideas what either the next fic or the entire series will be called?) will centre around Red X in some fashion or other. You can more or less predict how the fics will run from the order of the episodes; after the Red X episodes there's 'Betrothed' and 'Crash', meaning that I shall write a fic where our friends go to Tamaran and have adventures in space... except, needless to say, Terra shall influence them in some form or fashion.

And, yes, in case you were wondering;I _am_ thorough, biznatches. Enjoy.

-x-

On some other dimensional plane congruent to this one, Mator Kesh was spectacularly failing to live up to his name. Ashen he may have been, but it was difficult to picture him being a giant when the god was cowering in fear before another, greater ethereal spirit. This one didn't have to call himself a god; anybody who knew anything about him already knew that he didn't need any worshippers to rationalise his own existence.

He was cowering on a floor of barren rock, scorched absolutely dry by an infinity of furnace-intensity heat. This floor was mounted atop a tall and circular island, standing in a moat of magma which flowed perpetually about in its route around the island.

The stone walls met above, forming a perfect hemisphere which had the island at its centre. The only entrance were grand double-doors across the moat, crafted completely out of glittering jewels which all had some kind of magical potency, sparkling with burning red, glowing orange, shining purple, glimmering blue. Nobody got through this door without permission, period.

Torches mounted on stone towers lit those parts of the throne-chamber which the magma and the jewels did not illuminate, forming a circle of skilfully carved yet terrifying statues all around the island's edge. They seemed to form a cage around the island, and with just a word from Rothfar this could indeed become true.

Rothfar the Ever-Flame wasn't so much a god as an avatar for all fire. There were others like him; Nereya, Hydrera and Gayar represented earth, water and air in that order. There was in fact a complex and diverse hierarchy to account for each of these elements; after all, you couldn't expect the leader of a society to do _all_ the work, could you? It was like buying a dog and barking yourself.

Rothfar had worked his way up the ranks, starting from being just a lowly spark sprite at his birth. His unconquerable will and temperamental spirit made Rothfar the perfect choice for the representative of all fire, and volcanoes fell well within his jurisdiction.

The fire avatar was a terrible sight to behold. He took the shape of a toweringly tall human, and was clad in gold-trimmed coal-black armour which was spiked at all the joints. He had no head as such; instead there was a quicksilver skull without a neck, held in place by a blazing red fireball. Finally there was the diadem of his sovereignty; a spiked crown of alloyed titanium and adamantium rested upon his skull, a blazing fire-jewel fixed at its front… as though he needed any more illumination.

The cooler spots of red in the otherwise blowtorch-blue of his face which served for eyes were narrowed in disgust for the cringing _thing_ before his royal personage. When Rothfar opened his mouth, the flames which covered it parted, leaving lines across the divide which gave the impression of huge and jagged teeth.

As of then he was seated on his throne; one of pure gold inlaid with diamonds. Obviously it was enchanted so the intense heat wouldn't melt the gold. It rested towards the back of the circular island, facing the double-doors.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't extinguish you now," rumbled Rothfar, leaning forward vindictively in his throne. His voice was that of the furnace; a subdued roar which became fully evident when he shouted… and that happened quite often.

Mator Kesh was terrified beyond reasonable thought, and couldn't come up with a reason to save his life – literally. When Rothfar extinguished something, he knew what he was talking about.

"I am sorry, your majesty!" he said, his nose practically buried in the ground as he desperately thought of something.

"_Sorry?"_ roared Rothfar heatedly, sneering in contempt. "Believe me; however sorry you are feeling now will be as _nothing_ to how sorry you'll feel when I am done with you!"

"But, your majesty, there was a human there who wielded great power!" The Ashen Giant paused out of pure shock. He'd managed to complete an entire sentence and Rothfar hadn't shouted at him.

The Ever-Flame sat back in his throne, a look of mild concern on his face, as though to say 'The only reason you are not in a world of pain right now is because you are slightly more useful alive than dead.'

"Tell me more of this human…" said Rothfar somewhat more gently, although this was a contradiction in terms for him.

While Mator Kesh spoke, he reached lazily to a metal container at his side and withdrew a log from it, munching thoughtfully on the wood. It was in fact ironwood and particularly heat-resistant, so was to a fire-spirit like beef-jerky to us.

"She is a young human, sire! This girl can control the very rock and stone of the Earth and bend it to her will with but a thought!" Mator Kesh was taking absolutely no chances with this one; if he made the girl sound scarier than she actually was, then perhaps Rothfar would be slightly more understanding. This was a very long shot, but anything's worth a try when imminent extinguishment is on the menu.

He looked up to see Rothfar waving his fingers lazily, urging him to go on. The Ashen Giant's mind raced; intelligence can be very suddenly acquired in situations such as these.

"She is the one who woke me, and from the first I could tell that she was intent on facing down my power! I was helpless to do anything against the human's phenomenal ability, your eminence!" Rothfar laid aside the log on the arm of his throne.

"Hm… if what you say is indeed true, then I may possibly spare your life, such as it is. But be aware now that I do _not_ like it when people lie to me, understand?" Mator Kesh nodded like one of those toy dogs in car back windows. "Be gone. You are to be confined to your volcano until further notice," he said, like a father grounding his child.

Bowing every step of the way, the Ashen Giant slowly backed out of Rothfar's presence. The Ever-Flame didn't take any notice of the toadying, but rather ruminated on the information just given to him, taking another bite from the log.

"Zhax!" Rothfar called out. This was not in fact a sneeze, but was rather a summons. There was a flash of non-colour, and suddenly there stood before Rothfar's throne a figure swathed entirely in black, only the eyeholes showing the true nature of the entity within. Even they had goggles, although they had been deferentially removed as of then.

Zhax, or more poetically Starbright, was Rothfar's spy and occasional assassin. If there was something the Ever-Flame wanted done on the quiet, then this able fire demon was always standing by. Zhax was, interestingly enough, a female, insofar as gender applied in these circumstances. She was also an unusually intelligent and subtle individual; something that was very rare amongst the loud and intense fire race.

"Command me, sire," said Zhax, kneeling before the throne with the customary salute of the arm across the chest.

"I have a simple reconnaissance mission for you, Zhax," said Rothfar, sitting back regally in his throne. His voice was noticeably calmer and even showed a hint of respect; Starbright had worked for him for quite a while, and had proven herself more than capable on many occasions. "I have heard tell from that worm Mator Kesh that there is a geomancer of prodigious power in the city closest to his volcano. If this is true, then endeavour to find out all you can about her, especially regarding exactly how powerful she is. If it isn't-"

"-extinguish Mator Kesh?" asked Zhax, anticipating her master's orders.

"Indeed," Rothfar confirmed. "Now be about your business."

As Starbright nodded curtly and disappeared in another blur of black, Rothfar attempted to predict what her mission would turn up. The Ever-Flame had heard of a rumour from up there; something to do with an officially authorised resurrection. The information probably wasn't all that accurate, but if it was true that a mere human girl had successfully defied the full might of a volcano god on the same day that the rumour had spread, then there was a good chance of there being more than a grain of truth in it.

Rothfar determined to find out as much as he could about this. Nobody is ever resurrected for no good reason; very often the reason is of world-shaping importance, and if he was there to make the right changes in the right places then perhaps the world would become a little more Rothfar-shaped.

He looked down, and saw that the metal container was emptied. The Ever-Flame made a mental note to lay off the snacks.

-x-

Things had been pretty messy after the eruption was stopped. What with the widespread panic brought on by the tremors, there had been a rush to evacuate. More mess had been created by car crashes than by the volcano itself, and it was a while before the Titans could finally go back to the Tower and call it a day.

Beast Boy and Cyborg had taken Terra back to the Tower beforehand. Although Cyborg had returned to the city to help the others clean up some of the damage, none of the Titans seemed to question Beast Boy's staying with Terra.

So, after a thoroughly tiring day, the Titans were more than happy to just order out for pizza. Cooking was outside the realms of the imaginable, even for the half-man machine of wizard cuisine. Speaking of Cyborg, he was later to be found taking a pizza down to the medical ward. It was tofu-topped, naturally.

"Hey BB," he said, popping his head in around the door with a cheery smile. The silent atmosphere in here needed it, as far as he was concerned. "I just brought you some pizza. Tofu; just like you like it."

"What?" asked Beast Boy, snapping out of a reverie. "Oh, thanks." He walked over to collect the cardboard box, but instead of plunging headfirst into the cheesy melange with the usual Beast Boy zeal, he instead walked back to the bedside and put the box on a table.

Cyborg could see quite easily what was going on here, and if anything it made him smile even wider. But he was a good friend to Beast Boy, and therefore Cyborg appreciated that there is a time and place for everything. What he had to say would just have to wait. Grinning at the thought of his very own little secret, Cyborg went back up to the main room.

Beast Boy stared at Terra's serene face, the only sounds being the gentle hum of the monitoring equipment and Terra's own shallow breaths. All the air a solemn stillness held.

The dirt and grime of the volcano had since been cleaned from Terra, Slade's diabolical control suit removed. The tranquillity somehow served to make Terra's beauty sacred, as though she was finally safe from all the evils of the world… and she'd seen quite a few of them in her time.

Moving with vegetable slowness, Garfield reached out with tentative fingers and touched Tara's cheek, pressing no harder than a feather. Even this slightest of contact made his heart flutter, but Tara didn't wake up or even quietly whisper his name like he was secretly hoping she would.

Sighing, Beast Boy turned to his pizza. If only life was more like the movies…

-x-

"He's still there. Still wide awake too," said Cyborg, returning to the main room. He snatched a slice of pizza and joined Robin and Starfire around the television; apparently it was a wildlife documentary.

Starfire seemed to have taken a shine to Earth's diverse variety of animals, thinking of them as weird and wonderful in comparison to her own planet's, and had started thinking of David Attenborough as 'a very kind and wise old man who loves all animals'. Robin didn't have the heart to tell her that he couldn't stand rats.

"I hope friend Beast Boy does not stay awake all night worrying about Terra," said Starfire in her particularly affectionate brand of maidenly concern, looking across at Cyborg. He shrugged as if to say 'what can you do about it?'

"I'm hoping that the extra cheese on his pizza will make BB thirsty enough to come down here, but it's no sure bet."

There was a moment of quiet, filled only by the sounds of the African veldt. Cyborg wondered whether he should tell the others about Beast Boy's behaviour. He decided it would be best to keep it secret. After all, what's the point of having a secret if you instantly blab it?

Since his head was already buzzing with such thoughts, Cyborg turned his attention to Robin and Starfire, as they were sitting together on the couch. He could see young love sprouting all over the place.

Inside, where no-one else could see, Cyborg sighed deeply. It had been altogether too long since he'd last met Karen. He was a pragmatist of the highest order and thus did not worry about things which he could not change, but Victor could never forget that he was still predominantly human, however much of his body was circuitry.

What most people forget is this; '_cyborg_ (noun): a biological being which utilises technology to enhance its lifestyle'. It always comforted Victor to some small amount to remember this and remind himself that the joke was in fact on them. He smiled quietly, which was perhaps inappropriate considering how a wildebeest had just been brutally gutted.

"Where is friend Raven?" asked Starfire, after taking a pull on her personal mustard bottle. "She often shares dinnertime with us. Do you think it is perhaps because Beast Boy will not be there to make the jokes Raven likes to put down?"

"I don't think it's that," said Robin, grinning at Starfire's assumption, "although it might be a good idea to check up on Raven later. We can leave that for tomorrow morning; she always comes down to breakfast… whether or not Beast Boy is there."

As the vultures moved in on what remained of the wildebeest, Starfire settled herself against Robin. He noticed alright, but tactfully said nothing. Besides, it seemed rude to tell her to get away, especially when Starfire seemed so contented.

Cyborg, quite naturally, did not say absolutely anything about this.

-x-

Raven was in denial. It was a familiar place, and she spoke the language fluently. Unfortunately the natives of denial weren't all that friendly, and getting any kind of cooperation out of them was difficult in the extreme.

So she tried to read a book instead. That's what Raven always did whenever she was having problems. For a moment you could perhaps forget that the real world existed, and retreat back into that fantasy world that exists inside your head.

'Why is it always so easy in books?' she thought. 'There's a hero, a villain and a girl. The hero always saves the day, vanquishes the villain and gets the girl. Why can't real life be more like that?'

'Because it would be a lot less interesting if it was.' Raven was familiar with this voice; it sat at the back of her mind, like an old man who fell asleep most of the time but had many jewels of wisdom to dispense. 'Besides, we wouldn't write stories if real life was like that. For example; why are you reading this book?'

'Escapism.' The old man nodded sagely.

'Exactly. What would you need to escape from if the world was perfect? Life would become boring. You'd get everything you wanted. The only reason we keep going is because we have adversity to struggle against.'

"That's as may be, but it doesn't make the struggle any easier," said Raven to the empty room in general, replacing the book on the shelf. She found herself back in the real world, and sighed. Life goes on.

'Alright,' she thought, staring blankly at a patch of wall. 'You've got a problem. You know you have because if you didn't then you'd be in the main room with the others… even if you were only being there to ignore them.'

It's a common problem for loners. To build up the reputation of being alone, you have to hang around other people for at least a while so they can find out exactly how much of a loner you are. True loners who live on top of remote hilltops don't get much of a reputation. There's a lot more to advertising than you'd think.

'Problems are there to be solved,' Raven continued in her head, ignoring the loner paradox. She'd thought it through before anyway. 'So, first step; what is the problem?'

'_Terra.'_

This answer came automatically. Raven hadn't even thought about it, and suddenly the name had come out of the darkness in a painfully obvious flash.

'And how is she the problem?' she asked.

The darkness stayed silent on this one.

'Great… I've got a subconscious grudge against Terra and I don't know why.'

'Isn't it obvious?' asked the old man in the corner, lifting up his oddly sombrero-like hat as he woke up again. He seemed to be sitting in a rocking chair.

'If it was obvious then I wouldn't be asking.'

'I would tell you, only you wouldn't let me. Until you're out of denial, I can't help you on this one.' The sombrero went back down. For some reason he was now also wearing brown corduroy trousers, slightly scuffed black shoes and a dun green sweater with a thick brown zigzag going across it.

'Okay… well, if you've got a problem, talk about it with someone. A problem shared is a problem halved, right?'

'Only if you share it with just one other person,' said the part of Raven with the glasses and the calculator.

Raven was about to reprimand herself for being too pedantic when the darkness spoke again, abruptly and without warning, before lapsing back into silence just as suddenly. It was like being hit by a mental hit-and-run driver.

'_You can't speak to Terra or Beast Boy.'_

'Why not?' asked Raven like a shot, hoping to catch the voice before it got away.

But, inevitably, the darkness didn't answer.

If Raven was a slightly more melodramatic person (like Beast Boy, for example) then she'd have cried out in frustration. But she wasn't, so she didn't, instead just hitting the bed beneath her in a rather subdued fashion and biting her lip. It's the curse of all bookworms to be unduly gentle and quiet, even in the absence of anybody else.

She wanted to ignore the voice in the dark, but Raven soon realised that it had a lot more control than its loquacity suggested. It was like a computer term she'd heard Cyborg use; the darkness set up firewalls in her head, restricting access to certain areas it didn't want her to go.

Cyborg! Of course! He was the most logical Titan… with the possible exception of Robin. The only problem with Robin was that, whenever he talked to Raven, the entire 'it's okay you can always talk to us because we'll be there if you need us' thing came into play, and Raven was quite frankly sick of it. Wasn't there any time of the day or night when Robin didn't play the leader role and was just a considerate friend?

'It's not his fault,' said the old man. Now he was wearing faded blue jeans and had a gun holster at his waist, although there was nothing in it. He was also holding a half-eaten slice of pizza. 'Robin was made the leader by the consensus of everyone else in the group, and he thinks that you'll all think less of him if he doesn't constantly keep up his job as leader.'

Raven realised why it was the old man was holding the pizza slice. Her stomach considered rumbling dramatically, but decided the job had already been done.

'It's alright; go and eat something if you like. You can use it as an excuse to talk to Cyborg, after all.'

The best thing about Cyborg was that he could keep a secret and treat any situation with discretion. He had probably been a doctor in another life. That was just as well, because Raven had a problem to sort out.

For a short and very cringe-making instant, Raven considered telling Starfire about it. The moment soon passed, although Raven felt it might have emotionally scarred her for life.

'You mean 'added to the emotional scars you already have', right?' asked the glasses, waving a pedantic finger.

'Do you ever shut up?'

-x-

Although Beast Boy had resolved to stay there all night, and more importantly stay awake (it's very easy to stay somewhere all night if you fall asleep), he found his eyelids drooping much sooner than he'd hoped.

The pizza box was now irrevocably empty. Beast Boy knew. He'd tried eating the non-existent pizza inside it several times. Now he was having to face facts; waiting around for your best friend to wake up from an exhausted sleep, although an endearing and heart-warming act, was also extremely boring, however beautiful that best friend may look while serenely asleep.

Stifling a yawn, Beast Boy wandered over to the window and opened it wide, hoping that the cool night air might help rekindle his vigour. Garfield found that it took a lot more energy for him to stay put rather than actually do something.

He leaned on the windowsill, sampling the night air. There was a slight breeze blowing, and it was pleasantly refreshing. The sounds of the outside world filtered in, having been blocked up until then by double-glazing.

The shore below offered up its repetitive swash and backwash, the water flowing gently to and fro over the pebble beach. Beast Boy reminded himself to ask Robin or Cyborg about the possibility of turning it into a proper sandy beach. That would be, like, so cool dude!

There was of course the distant hum of the city from over the water. Although it was faint, an entire city-full of activity doesn't go about its business with the same quiet of the famed church mouse, and there was a constant rumble, just on the edge of hearing.

It was impossible to imagine what these sounds were like unless you'd been sitting in silence for the last few hours; the sound-mixer of the brain quite conveniently filters out such background noises, and very often you have to concentrate to hear them.

Beast Boy made a new resolution; to damn well _do_ something. He was sure the normally shy yet playful Terra wouldn't want him waiting up for her all night… although, thought Beast Boy, if he came back to the medical ward before Terra woke up he could very easily carry off that illusion. Ah well; that was for later.

Quite spontaneously, he jumped out of the window, savouring the feeling of being one of a vanishingly small fraction of the human population who can have that odd falling sensation in their gut without strapping half a ton of cloth to their backs or waking up a second later.

Then, waiting until he was dangerously close to the ground, Beast Boy turned into a condor, using its massive wingspan to power himself up the side of the Tower. There's no updraft quite like the one you get when the wind blows against a building.

-x-

Starfire looked up, directing her attention away from the movie the three of them were watching. It was something nicely brainless involving a plot to subjugate/destroy the world and the hero who has to stop it, inevitably accompanied by some glamorous woman who was bound to be a double-agent or something of that kind, with some car chases, gunfights, big explosions, a witless side-kick, lots of shiny gadgetry and plenty of cheesy one-liners thrown in for good measure; just the kind of thing you wanted to watch after a hard day of heroics. It doesn't try to make you any more tired by forcing you to think, with the extra added bonus for the Titans that they knew, being superheroes, exactly how ridiculous the film was.

"What is it, Star?" asked Robin, derailing his thoughts of annoyance concerning the side-kick's utter haplessness. When a girl like Starfire takes her head off your shoulder, you know all about it.

"Nothing… I just thought I saw a bird outside."

"It might have been a bat; you get them around here sometimes when it turns dark." Robin turned his eyes back to the movie; the woman had (inevitably) just revealed that she did in fact work for the evil bad guy of evilly bad evilness, and now there was a chase scene in which the hero tried to catch up with her, eventually (and again, inevitably) losing her… but not before at least one huge explosion took place.

One of the side doors opened. Raven wondered idly why there were no door-handles in the entire Tower; it was like something out of _Star Trek_.

"Friend Raven!"

'Please, please, _please_ don't hug me,' thought Raven fervently, keeping her face carefully blank. Thankfully Starfire did no more than turn around in her seat and beam happily, as though she'd just witnessed the return of the cutest kitten in the world.

"I hope I'm not too late to get something to eat."

"_What?"_ asked Robin, the obligatory explosion making it impossible to hear anything for a second or two.

"Is there any pizza left?" Raven asked, too tired to bother repeating the entirety of her overly sophisticated hint and instead taking the route of the good-old direct 'yes or no' question. The direct question looked at Raven oddly, like somebody trying to remember a face it had seen a long time ago.

"You're just in time for the last slice," said Cyborg, holding up the box, "deep-pan pepperoni with extra cheese. It's gone cold, though; you might want to microwave it."

"There's no 'might' about it," said Raven, walking over to Cyborg's single-seat chair to collect her meagre dinner and realising just how hungry she was. There's nothing like a hard day's work to make you feel as though there's a black hole just opened up in your stomach.

Deliberately taking her time to get to Cyborg, Raven waited until she felt that Starfire and Robin were decently engrossed in the movie and nodded away towards the kitchen; the universal body language for 'I'd like a private word'. Cyborg was, unlike Beast Boy, smart enough to take a subtle hint and, taking care not to disturb the happy couple on the couch, he crept after Raven.

Holding it between thumb and finger tentatively as though it would explode, Raven ferried the pizza slice into the microwave, relying upon its loud humming to drown out the conversation between her and Cyborg.

"What is it you wanted to see me about?" he asked, taking the opportunity of being in the kitchen to pull a bottle of water out of the fridge. Your perspective on aerated soft-drinks changes drastically when you know enough biochemistry.

"Before I start, I just want to confirm that you'll keep an entirely straight face all throughout the conversation, alright?"

"Something of a private matter, is it?" Cyborg queried, respectably serious as he took a few massive gulps out of the water bottle. Raven looked on in a sort of horrified fascination as the plastic bottle buckled under the sudden difference in relative air pressures.

"Yes…" she resumed slowly. "So far, all I can ascertain is that I have an entirely irrational grudge against Terra and I can't bring myself to talk to either her or Beast Boy about it."

Cyborg quite magnificently failed to choke on the water and do a spit-take. Neither did he freeze and then burst out laughing. Raven commended herself on having made the right choice of person to confide in; he was completely third-party to all this and perfect for the job, since he got to the point with no messing about.

"Well," said Cyborg, after that refreshed sigh that seems obligatory after a long drink and wiping off his lips with the back of a hand, "I think you're in love."

Then again, thought Raven, there is such a thing as being _too_ direct.

"I see," said Raven calmly.

"Sorry; I was a bit too straight about that, wasn't I?"

"Indeed," she replied, poker-faced.

"Let me try to reword it in an easier-to-swallow form… um… right; from what you've told me, and what I know about Beast Boy and Terra-"

"What do you know about Beast Boy and Terra?" Cyborg winced inwardly. It was difficult having a conversation with someone who actually _listened_, instead of the normal action which was to use somebody else's speech as a pause in which to think of what _you_ were going to say next.

"Well… you didn't hear it from me, but the way BB was acting… you know," he said, grinning warmly at Raven and hoping she would understand.

"No, I don't know." Unfortunately, she didn't. Cyborg sighed, a touch dramatically, and counted off the symptoms on his fingers. People never really do this in normal conversation except when they're trying to make a point that what they're going through is, in their opinion, unnecessarily long-winded.

"Long stares at Terra, preoccupation, sighing, general lack of _joie de vivre_… please don't make me spell it out for you." Cyborg made a mental note not to let himself speak French again just to make an impression on the lexically gifted Raven.

"…I see." Again that cryptic comment, but Cyborg was happy enough with the fact that she _did_ see… or did she?

"Do you?" he asked, with the grim determination of one who is resolute about seeing this tiresome venture through to the bitter end. "It feels to me as though you're in denial."

"No I'm-!" Raven stopped herself just in time, allowing Cyborg a smug grin.

"I thought so. It's obvious from my point of view and probably from yours, but I bet you just need to hear somebody else say it to rationalise it in your own head, right?" Raven nodded faintly, but seemed slightly more interested in her pizza. The darkness in her head didn't want her to listen, but Raven wasn't going to let it control her this time. "You've got a crush on Beast Boy, and you know that he actually likes Terra _way_ better than you, no offence." Raven sighed inwardly. Why is that people always say 'no offence' just because what they said was perfectly calculated to cause offence, rather than just finding a less offensive way of putting it? "That explains the grudge against Terra, because you're jealous of her, and your reticence to talk to either of them, because you don't want to have to have an argument with Terra and you're just too shy to talk to BB properly about how you feel."

The microwave went 'ding!' in that annoying manner which all microwaves do to tell you that they've finished heating your useless piece of junk. That part of Raven which wasn't listening wondered if there was a factory somewhere in the world where they made nothing but things that went 'ding!' just to supply all the world's microwave manufacturers.

The part of her that _was_ listening was in turmoil. Actually, it was just the silent form of turmoil; the calm before the storm, you might say, where the racing cars still have their brakes on but are revving the engines in preparation for the starting flag.

"Thanks for your help, Cyborg. You've given me a lot to think about," she said, very carefully avoiding eye contact as she extricated the pizza slice and carefully placed it on a tray, thanking her past self for deciding not to cut her fingernails _just_ yet.

"Um… are you alright, Rae?" asked Cyborg in brotherly concern as Raven searched among the blue bits of fridge-gunk for something that might possibly serve as a drink and a side-dish. It was odd; however many sodas Beast Boy drank, there always seemed to be at least one of them left at the back of the fridge. Was there a wormhole to a canned soda universe in there or what?

"I'm perfectly alright, thank you," said Raven serenely… almost _too_ serenely. "If there's anything wrong I'll make sure to talk to you again, okay?"

And then… Raven smiled. It was the smallest of smiles that could possibly be smiled, and, granted, it did only last for barely a second, but it was also accompanied by a flash shutting and opening of the eyes and a slight inclination of the eyebrows which shows that a smile is genuine. It might takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown, but it takes hardly any muscles whatsoever to make your lips turn up at the corners. There is a world of difference between the two, and Cyborg knew that Raven had just given him a real smile, probably to throw him off the scent.

There was something waiting just around the corner. Cyborg wasn't exactly sure what it was, but he knew for a fact that the next left turn led directly into a dark and shadowy alleyway where there were no witnesses.

And then, taking the pizza slice, a can of soda, a small plastic pot of hummus and a few pieces of unleavened bread, Raven left. Cyborg froze until Raven was fully gone from the room, and then relaxed – but only slightly.

'Hey, don't worry,' said the rather more blasé section of Cyborg's mind. 'It's her problem. Raven's got lots of problems; she's got enough experience to deal with it.'

'Recommended Course of Action: Observe and Monitor Emotional State of Raven. Ratification: Distinct Possibility of Required Intervention,' the computerised side of his brain churned out. Cyborg was not exactly an expert on the workings of the human psyche, especially one quite as unstable as Raven's, but nevertheless decided that his more logical side was probably right in this instance.

Cyborg walked back to the circle of seats around the television, conveniently passing through the motion-sensitive area outside the door Raven had just left by. You would have needed a camera and a DVD player with frame-by-frame and zoom-in options to have seen it, but a tiny bug leapt from a compartment on the end of Cyborg's finger and through the open door.

The bug landed on the floor of the corridor outside the main room. It led to one side of the Titans' residential quarters, and it was along this corridor that Raven was then walking. The bug, more precisely a little mechanical spider with audio-visual recorders and a wireless feed back to Cyborg's auxiliary processor, activated another of its many niftily miniature gadgets and fired a piton cord at the ceiling. This enabled it to swing over to Raven in the same fashion that has made Spider-Man so famous, rather than having to run all the way. The floor suddenly seems a lot bigger when you're a mini-bug.

It latched on to Raven's cloak with eight little tiny metal claws, and hitched a ride back to her room. Although Cyborg would normally never have done this, desperate times do call for desperate measures, and he wanted to ascertain whether or not Raven was like the times. If she was, then that was fine, and he could step in and help.

It was the other eventuality that Cyborg was worried about, and was the reason why he'd spent the 'Spyder', as it was neatly named. Things had gotten pretty bad when Raven had tried to suppress her fear. What would happen if she tried the same with love?

* * *


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: It Ain't Necessarily So

* * *

**Author's Notes:** If any of you come to wonder what hummus is, it's a puree of chick-peas, whipped up into a dipping paste, popular in the Middle East and eaten with Arabic bread, although I daresay it wouldn't explode if you dipped something else in it (unless you used gelignite).

I used this as a sort of personal note, because for me there was _always_ hummus and Arabic bread in the fridge left over from our meals, so there was always a side-dish when I needed it.

You see, when I lived back in the U.A.E. a little over a month ago, we as a family would sometimes order out, and there was this place called _Al Zahra_ which, although they were to be found desperately lacking in the English department, made surprisingly good Arabic food for a co-op restaurant. If you haven't tried a shawarma yet, which is more or less the Middle Eastern equivalent of the hamburger, then you haven't lived, in my opinion.

I know; I'm rambling again aren't I? Please; don't mind me. I just like to add these little personal touches to remind everyone that there is a human writing this story.

-x-

If you had been standing outside the Tower, just next to the back wall, and looked straight up, you might have seen a small patch of black… but then again you might not have. Zhax had a useful enchantment for just such occasions called Darkfolding. As the name suggests, this enchantment folds the darkness of night around you, making it seem as though you are just another more mobile part of the night.

She was walking up the side of the Tower in a rather leisurely fashion. Although gravity was getting mightily steamed up about it, there was not really anything it could do. It was a simple task for Starbright the fire demon to heat the air just below her until the point where it rose so quickly that it supported what little she weighed.

Finally Zhax reached the floor she had been wanting to get to and allowed the air below her to cool to the point where she stopped rising, just staying perfectly still on the Tower's glass surface.

Out of all the rooms of the Tower, this one seemed the most inviting, for several reasons: (a) the window was already open, and thus she could leave it open as a quick escape route and nobody would ask questions (b) there was nobody conscious in the room who might see Starbright and (c) the sleeping girl in there would make a good hostage if things went pear-shaped.

There was the slight problem of the bright light and the security cameras, but for an experienced sneaker like Zhax they were only a temporary obstacle. Besides, this girl was in the medical ward of what Starbright had ascertained to be the Titans' Tower on the same day the eruption had been averted, and she was as good a person as any to start with this whole geomancer investigation.

Now then; how to get past the security cameras…? Ideally Starbright wanted to be able to stay in this room so she could observe without being seen, and thus find out whether this girl was the geomancer or not. Zhax flicked through her wide repertoire of tricks and tools, and hit upon one which would work. It would have to be done exactly as planned, and like most plans of this nature it was a matter of precise timing.

Zhax braced herself, collecting her magical energies. Then, her eyes flicking open again behind her matte-black goggles, Starbright really did leap into action.

In one swift bound through the window, Zhax increased the power of the Darkfolding enchantment already upon her, pulling the inky black of night from outside the window into the room and instantly filling it with obfuscating darkness. It would last for a second or so, and she had exactly that much time in which she was hidden from the cameras; they'd almost assuredly think it was a glitch, and if they worked out what it really was then it was already too late for Zhax anyway.

Rushing through an incantation and the necessary hand movements, Starbright called upon a power common to all fire spirits. When the darkness cleared, vanishing just as suddenly as it had appeared back into the night, Zhax was nowhere to be seen…

…although, if you knew what to look for, you might have seen a slight tinge of red in the light emanating from one of the light-bulbs. But then again you might not have.

-x-

Raven sat on her bed and ate. It was a repetitive activity, but thankfully it required concentration of a sort especially when you were _this_ hungry, so it saved her from thinking about anything else.

The Spyder had since clambered off Raven's cloak, scurried across the bed and swung across to the bookshelf for fear of being sat on. Hidden amongst a dark recess in a vertically-sided valley created between two immense papery objects, it watched Raven's back intently.

It was only an agent for somebody else, and at that moment the Spyder was sending live video feed to two somebodies.

"Raven does not seem too perturbed," said Starfire doubtfully. "Are you sure that you are not overreacting, friend Cyborg?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. That's what I sent the Spyder to find out," he answered, keeping his eyes glued to the video-screen in his left forearm. He had decided to tell the others what he was up to. After all, if things did go awry then he could rely on their help.

Robin was still sitting on the couch, blatantly not watching the video-screen. He wasn't the kind who liked to watch things intently to see if something happened or didn't; Robin was the kind of leader who liked other people to do the watching for him and report back. Although Robin did research, that wasn't quite the same; that information was already there. You didn't have to wait for it to appear without even knowing whether or not it was there; you don't go researching for something you think doesn't exist, after all.

"Has anything happened?" he asked patiently.

"Not just yet, but if it's going to it'll happen soon," said Cyborg.

The Spyder kept watching as Raven took the last few bites and finished off the soda. Because Raven was Raven, she cleaned up any and all of the mess, even the crumbs, and ferried them to the dustbin.

After having done what she needed to do, Raven fell back onto her bed and closed her eyes, the fatigue clearly showing on her face. This reminded Cyborg that his own power levels were getting rather low. But he couldn't sleep just yet.

It was fully possible that she might just fall asleep, ignoring or forgetting the problem rather than trying to deal with it or suppress it. Again, it was entirely uncertain… it was just one of those things where all you could do was watch and wait.

-x-

A small green bat fluttered onto the windowsill, latching onto the metal edge with tiny hooked claws. Just to see what Terra looked like in echolocation, Beast Boy flapped until he was directly above the bed and let out a few bursts of the bat's ultrahigh-frequency cries. Her face sounded much like it looked; smooth and round with only the small yet jutting nose breaking the evenness of her features.

The batty part of him just thought 'so what'? To the human Beast Boy, this different way of seeing Terra was exhilarating. It was so detailed; almost like actually running his fingers over her face, every single last contour revealed to him.

Still; that was enough amusement for now, although Beast Boy was sorely tempted to try it again. He turned back into his human self and glanced at the clock. The time suddenly reminded the changeling of how much his body ached from that day's trials, however refreshing that brief aerial jaunt in the cool night-time air may have been.

"Goodnight, Terra," said Beast Boy softly. He drew the curtains around Terra's bed and went back to his own room, turning off the lights as he left. Although waking up in a chair next to Terra's bed seemed an attractive prospect, the idea of sleeping on a chair all night didn't seem too comfortable.

The instant the lights went out, Zhax dropped from the ceiling. She'd been ready, and fell to her padded feet with a silence that would have had the most experienced ninja scratching their head in wonderment. Beast Boy didn't turn around, but instead went through the door; not that he'd have seen Zhax even if he had looked. Darkfolding saw to that, now the lights had been turned off.

Rothfar had assigned her the task of finding out everything she could about this girl. Well, that was fully possible… if difficult. It would require a little trip into her subconscious. It was a dangerous place, but also very informative if you knew what you were looking for.

-x-

Raven breathed in deeply, and let it out again in one rush; a sort of extended sigh. She tried not to think about how tired she was, and then yawned anyway, putting a hand over her mouth out of sheer force of habit.

Then, like an angry dinosaur that had been sent forward several million years until it was biting a car in half, she remembered.

"I am _not_ in love!" Raven shouted, abruptly sitting bolt upright, her hair almost falling down over her face in its attempt to keep up with the rest of her head. "Especially not with Beast Boy…"

The Spyder looked on, a stray light-ray glinting off what could be advisably called its eye. It zoomed in on the expression of doubt which clouded Raven's face.

"She's started talking to herself," said Cyborg gloomily, back in the rather better-lit main room. "This can't be good."

"Why can this not be good?" asked Starfire, her sometimes convoluted way of speaking making Robin raise an eyebrow. "I sometimes find it helps to talk to oneself."

"Well… humans look at it differently," Robin answered awkwardly. "Should we intervene?"

"I don't know," said Cyborg. "Oh no."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, nothing… it's just we're gonna have to lose visual contact for a while. We can keep listening, though… I think."

"What's the problem?" asked Robin again, slightly irritated this time. He actually came over to see what was going on.

"Raven is undressing for bed," said Cyborg, frowning at Robin for having made him say this out loud.

"Oh, okay," he replied, this time abashed. It was one of the hazards of spying on people; you never know what they'll do when they think they're not being watched.

"I could watch instead," Starfire offered. The boys glanced at each other, and quickly reached a decision.

"Fine," said Cyborg, moving his left forearm above his shoulder so that Starfire could see it from behind. "Tell us if she shows any signs of emotional turmoil, okay?" he added, determined to retain at least a semblance of professionalism.

"I will," Starfire reassured them, watching the video-screen with a firmly discerning expression. "Friend Raven does seem to be troubled about… something," she continued. "I cannot say for certain if it is about Beast Boy. If only she'd talk to herself again…" As if on cue, Raven suddenly spoke.

"Shut up!" she shouted, tightly closing her eyes and curling her fingers into fists.

"Wow," said Cyborg appreciatively, considering as how the speaker was more or less right next to his ear. "She really _is_ troubled. I think we should get her to talk about it before things go any further."

"Good idea," said Robin, and with this agreement Cyborg closed the live feed between the Spyder and him, telling it to take a few steps back and hide behind the books for now. "But, uh… nobody mention the Spyder, okay?" Robin added. Although Cyborg nodded, it seemed their alien friend was perturbed by this decision.

"But why not?" said Starfire, as ever preferring to be truthful in the face of Robin's subtleties. "Friend Cyborg only did this in Raven's best interests. It was a good act," she said defiantly, with the assurance of one who knows what good is because they are it.

"Something may be done for the right reason, but the thing itself is still wrong, so that only makes it half-right," said Victor. He could be unusually perspicacious at times.

"What?" asked Starfire, puzzled. She was by no means dense but was a bit naïve, and had difficulty fathoming that anything could be both bad and good at the same time.

"Raven wouldn't like it, even if it was for the right reasons," said Robin, acting as Starfire's translator. It's odd how two people can speak the same language and still be misunderstood. "You know what she can be like," he added, and even Starfire was forced to accept that validity of this statement.

"Alright; Starfire, I'd like it if you could call Raven for us." Starfire was subject to confusion at Cyborg's hands once again, and he sighed at her frown. "Neither of us can go," he continued before she could open her mouth, "because we're boys, quite basically. _I_ especially can't go, because I'm the one who told her what it is that's troubling her so much, and Robin…" The two of them looked at him surreptitiously.

"What?" he asked uneasily, once the stares had gone on long enough.

"You can be rather standoffish at times," said Cyborg tactfully. Robin rolled his eyes as if to say 'Yes, well, if you put it like that…' "Raven needs someone who is kind and understanding to draw her out of her room, and I think you're just the kind of person we need," Cyborg explained matter-of-factly to the suddenly smiling Starfire. "I would be much obliged if you could sort of… _soften up_ Raven for us. Try and act like only you wanted to speak to her, one-to-one."

"In other words, we really need you to be a girl for us right now," said Robin, grinning awkwardly. Starfire's smile became somehow more solemn, but she said nothing, instead just nodding and leaving for Raven's quarters.

Cyborg frowned for a moment, as though he'd just scrolled down a webpage really quickly and was left with the distinct and unshakeable impression that he'd seen a really cute picture of a bunny rabbit in the middle of the computer-science essays.

"Are you sure you're not-?"

"Yes," Robin answered curtly, turning back to the television. "Now we need to watch the TV; if Raven sees us standing around like this she'll know for certain we arranged the talk."

Cyborg sighed inwardly again. To think there had to be so many layers of deceit just to make a friend feel better. Didn't the truth have any worth any more?

The truth does have a lot of worth, yes. The only problem is, for every bit of worth you get, there's a price you have to pay in return.

-x-

It was evident enough that the girl wasn't quite as skilled a geomancer as Mator Kesh had claimed her to be. After all, a mighty mistress of the very strata of the Earth itself wouldn't be so tuckered out after stopping a single volcano, would they?

Starbright was intuitive and dutiful. She knew it wasn't her place to ask questions, and therefore didn't. However, it did sometimes occur to Starbright that there might be things that her master wasn't telling her.

For example, why did he want her to spy on this girl? She knew without asking that the answer was 'none of your business'. Zhax made a living out of using her many talents to do as she was told, and that was quite definitively that.

Instead of ruminating on the nature of intelligence networks, quite a lot of which depended on keeping certain people without the intelligence, Zhax got down to the matter at hand. She slid past the curtains and stood at Terra's bedside, all the while her eyes riveted on the girl.

Terra didn't stir; not surprisingly, since her body had been much overworked that day and it would probably be well into tomorrow before she even thought about waking. Nevertheless, Zhax took out a knife and a small vial from compartments in her clothing. Although the black folds of cloth were usually tucked into themselves, there were small catches in them which only Starbright knew about. The haphazard cut of the cloth meant that it went this way and that all over the place, so there could be pockets practically anywhere.

The knife's purpose was evident as Zhax held it mere microns away Terra's throat, but the vial was a tool she didn't often use. You usually didn't want anybody waking up in the middle of an assassination.

Zhax's other hand was occupied with the knife, so she deftly removed the stopper of the vial with the same hand it was held with; no mean feat in terms of dexterity. With movements so careful that they would have made any spider jealous, Zhax's fingers tipped the vial _ever_ so slowly downwards.

The liquid inside, whatever it was, crept towards the brim of the vial and slowly gathered until enough of it gathered to make a single drop. In that annoying way liquid has of doing, it hung on the very, _very_ edge of the brim. The smallest tap with an index finger sent the single drop, no more, no less, falling from the vial.

It splashed exactly on target, on that small stretch of skin between Terra's nose and upper lip. Surprisingly, she didn't react in any way whatsoever; the vial was filled with a liquid so pungent that it could pep up a sloth.

'She must be really far under right now,' thought Zhax. She smiled. Perfect…

Making the knife and the vial disappear about her person quicker than any stage magician, Zhax laid the index and middle finger of her right hand on Terra's forehead and whispered an incantation under her breath, even though Terra was so fast asleep that she probably wouldn't have woken up even if Starbright had shouted.

Zhax was in the Towers' medical ward. She closed her eyes.

Zhax opened her eyes. She was in the volcano.

The human brain is a vastly complex piece of natural engineering, and although we attempt to find out more about it all the time the simple fact of the matter is that there are many secrets it still keeps from us. One of those secrets is that we actually dream _all the time_ when we sleep; it's just that, very often, you're too tired to remember what the dreams or nightmares were, and therefore it doesn't register as brain activity because you're not paying it any attention. That's why humans usually get dreams only when we haven't done much that day; because we still have enough energy to pay attention, which takes a lot more energy than you'd think.

This played to Zhax's advantage, because she could do almost anything in this dream and Terra would never remember, since she was practically dead to the world. However there was the problem of time. As anyone who has ever had a dream will know, it seems only a minute or so before the dream ends and you wake up.

Nightmares, on the other hand, are slightly different. Although they also take a lot of time in the real world, in accordance with the law of time going slower whenever you're having a bad experience, nightmares take a lot longer than dreams, and what Zhax was in now was most assuredly a nightmare. It was a bit difficult to believe that all this fire and smoke was part of a dream.

Zhax wasn't in a volcano as such. It was as though a real volcano had been squeezed through the impressionist mesh of the mind's eye, and the result was what she was now standing in.

Nightmares are in fact just the same as dreams. They are surreal to the point where they make absolutely no sense, and people can become other people, or disappear, or even become things, whereas it is possible to have long conversations with chairs or other such inanimate objects. There are dreams which contain within them distinctly morbid or Gothic themes, and there are nightmares in which positively delightful characters may emerge. The only thing that separates them is the _feeling_.

Zhax was not subject to the feeling, as she was not having the nightmare. Instead, she saw a world full of violent swirls and splodges of colour, like the colouring book of a child who hasn't yet learned what the black lines are for. Now all that was left was to find Terra.

Although the constantly shifting and flickering landscape would have made most people faint at the mere sight of it, Zhax knew that it meant nothing. She didn't just think it, she _knew_, with the kind of immovable certainty you can pivot a planet on. The truth of the matter was that it would have meant something to her if she had let it… so she didn't. It was usually best not to think too hard about it, because that's when you start to go wrong. Dreams and nightmares don't operate on logic; you have to find your way through them by emotion, want and instinct – basic things that even a baby can understand.

Zhax focused all her concentration on finding Terra and, without even having to move, she was suddenly there. Terra wasn't herself as such and had no physical form in the nightmare; instead there was just this single point in the space of the nightmare, insofar as any dimensions of the waking world applied here, which all the rest of the nightmare seemed to revolve around and be distorted by; it was like a black hole which was too well-mannered to absorb the matter that gravitated towards it.

Zhax's own body was perfectly undisturbed by the nightmare world of melanic black, puccoon red and cinerious grey. Her own black-swathed body stayed perfectly human-shaped, because she wasn't part of the dream; she was in the 'Just Visiting' corner of the jail square, as it were. That didn't mean she couldn't influence it, though; even the most subtle of observers changes the very nature of the thing being observed just by the action of observing it.

Terra said something, but Zhax couldn't understand a word of it because it wasn't in words. There wasn't even any kind of sound in the ever-changing world of nightmare colours; again, just the feeling, and this is what Starbright picked up on. There was a feeling of despair; of helplessness; of wanting to escape.

"Come with me," said Starbright, holding out a hand. "I can help you."

She was slightly surprised to see an uncertain blob of pink appear in her outstretched hand. Zhax realised that this was Terra's hand, and it had appeared because Terra was paying attention to it. The hand was important emotionally, because it was what kept Terra and Starbright together.

"There is a door to the outside that we will need to look for," Zhax explained. She knew how to manipulate this unreal world, and she knew what she wanted. "I need to find a way into your memories, and I can help you from there."

And then the door appeared. It was a white blob of colour in the middle of all the other splodges of colour, but Zhax concentrated on it and then it reformed into a neat white-painted wooden door, glossed and panelled, with a brass-coloured lever-handle. It was the archetypal door; the kind you opened and closed yourself and could be locked.

Smiling her thanks to Terra, Zhax opened the door and went through. Terra would not be able to follow; she was tied to the nightmare.

Starbright didn't feel any ill-will towards Terra; she was just the person to be investigated. Zhax didn't even hold a grudge against people she was going to assassinate, or indeed feel anything for them at all. It was a job, and she did it. Starbright did have feelings, but they were strictly for usage in her own time only.

Now Zhax was in the memory room. Things were a lot clearer here, although still rather surreal. The memory room was an infinite black void, filled in with what looked like blurred photos, up, all of them in frames, like an art museum, hanging up in the midst of the blackness. They were in rows and columns, and wherever Zhax moved the pictures turned to face her; it was as though they didn't want their backs to be seen.

In front of each of the indistinct pictures, which Zhax had correctly guessed were each a single memory, there were nondescript grey cylindrical pedestals, each with a perfectly clear sphere of… was it glass? Whatever it was, each one of the memories had its own pedestal and sphere in front of it.

Zhax walked up to a pedestal, not seeming to mind that her feet weren't actually touching anything by again adopting the 'it's not real so it doesn't apply to me' approach, and laid a hand on the glass sphere that rested on top of it. She wasn't sure why, but that's what the glass spheres seemed to be there for; for putting a hand on. They emanated that same air which levers do, saying in a language that only your subconscious can understand 'Well, aren't you going to pull me then?'

The instant Zhax put her hand on the sphere, it glowed a brilliant white, and for some reason Zhax felt deep depression. It was clearly that emotion, but she wasn't the one feeling it, in an oddly vicarious fashion. It was like looking at a tumbledown shack from the outside… except that the picture started moving, and suddenly Starbright could see the inside of the shack at the same time.

It was raining, and the roof of the shack was just too dejected to bother keeping any of it out. The remains of a cardboard box were being used to keep the worst of it off her head, but even when the cardboard disintegrated due to sheer sogginess, she didn't care.

She was crying, her own salt tears mixing with the raindrops which poured down her young face. All she knew was the cold and the rain… and the sucking void of _loneliness_.

Zhax stepped back, pulling her hand away from the glass sphere in shock. Although she'd started just by looking at the picture, it had somehow pulled Starbright in until she _was_ the picture. She had just lived one of Terra's memories, and somehow Starbright knew that this was the saddest moment she could remember.

Oddly enough, she had inherited all sorts of knowledge just by experiencing the memory; the glass sphere wasn't just an activation switch, it was the trigger which recalled the memory, for example a certain stimulation of the senses, like a smell, or something as simple as a single memory which called on many others. The miserable rainy shack wasn't just one instance, but was in fact a whole collection of nights that had been like that, all running together into one because they'd all been so alike.

'This is meant to be a memory of a powerful geomancer?' Zhax asked herself. 'I don't think so. Well, this is the memory room; I'm outside of the nightmare now. I've got all the time in the world and Rothfar can't stop me finding out what I want to…'

Starbright walked over to the next pedestal and its corresponding picture, and placed a hand on the glass sphere. It glowed, and the picture sprang to life, sucking her attention into it…

* * *


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Misdeeds and Mistrust

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm not exactly sure if Tamaranians are at all affected by temperature; after all, they can survive the harsh cold of space without so much as a whimper. However, we will assume for the dramatic purposes of this chapter that they are. (I won't be too specific and spoil it for you; you'll see. Rest assured, it is _dramatic_.)

And one other point; I notice that there are quite a few people who read my fics but don't necessarily leave any reviews. I don't want sound selfish (precisely because I _am_) but it would give me greater incentive to write (and therefore _update quicker_) if you reviewed and actually let me know that you _care _about my fic enough to contribute a few words. I mean, it's not exactly too much to ask, is it? So have a think, and have a heart. (I _love_ that phrase!)

-x-

Starfire had reached the door to Raven's room. If she had been but a little more knowledgeable of the English language, the words 'dread portal' would probably have sprang to mind at this point.

Anyone who knew Raven had the same thoughts upon considering the impending prospect of knocking on Raven's door. It usually went something like this.

'Don't be stupid; it's just a door. A door can't hurt you.'

'But it says 'RAVEN' on it in **big black letters**. Everybody knows that Raven, _only_ Raven and no-one _but _Raven goes into Raven's room.'

'Well… you're not actually going _in_ to the room, are you? You're just knocking on the door; no harm in that.'

'Oh, sure, the _door_ is perfectly fine. It's just what might be behind it that might be just the _teensiest_ bit scary.'

But Starfire hadn't become the Empress of her people by listening to thoughts such as these, however short her reign may have been. Even so, she gave herself a quick check to see if she looked friendly enough. Only Starfire…

She rapped smartly on the door, taking care not to leave a small dent in it. Cyborg was not the kind to go ballistic at the smallest of misdemeanours, but even his titanium-reinforced patience had been severely tried by the dents Starfire had left in all the doors of the Tower soon after she'd first come to Earth. Rule one of dealing with Starfire: when introducing her to a new human custom, knocking on doors being one example, take it _slowly_.

A sound came from behind the door, or rather silence broken by a sudden burst of sound came from behind the door, like the person behind it had been lounging about comfortably and suddenly realised that there was a caller.

"Hello?" said Raven, opening the door only halfway. Starfire was only slightly surprised to see her wearing a gown; the kind made out of fuzzy towels which people put on after they've had a bath and feel like lounging around. They always have large pockets (why would anyone want to put anything away in a bathroom gown?) and are secured by a thick towel-strap tied around the waist. Raven's gown was, needless to say, dark blue in colour.

But the thing that really caught Starfire's attention was Raven's hair. It looked _really_ different after having been towel-dried; instead of the immaculate widow's peak style that they'd all come to know and presumably love, the purple strands were rather more disorganised, Raven's normally clear forehead overhung by so much fringe that Starfire almost couldn't see the Ajna chakra. Tufts of it were sticking out at odd angles.

"Hello, friend Raven," said Starfire slowly, trying not to think about how odd the usually perfectly-presented Raven looked. Starfire also made a mental note not to appear too happy or friendly; that kind of thing drove the reclusive Raven away faster than you could say 'Let us go to the mall of shopping together!'

"Oh, it's you," Raven replied, looking slightly relieved. She opened the door the rest of the way. Starfire sighed inwardly in relief; the atmosphere had become about three degrees less chilly. "To what do I owe your visit, Starfire?"

Starfire realised with a sudden surge of quiet panic that she didn't have a pretext under which to call on Raven and bring her back to the main room. Beast Boy would of course have thought of this way in advance, but Starfire was simply too inexperienced in the art of underhand ploys and general skulduggery to have thought of this beforehand.

"Well, it is just…" Starfire desperately latched onto the nearest innocent bystander idea in her head. "I just have not talked with you all evening and I wanted to see if you were alright."

Because Starfire was looking for it, she saw the sudden flash of metal in the darkness of Raven's room as the Spyder swung nimbly across it, landing just under the table next to the door. It scuttled up the table-leg and latched onto the table's underside, its beady camera eye fixed on Raven and sending the conversation back to Cyborg and Robin.

"What's wrong with Star?" Cyborg asked with a hint of irritation. Robin sighed, as if he'd encountered this many times before.

"Starfire can't tell a lie to save her life," he answered. "She is scrupulously honest. It should probably have occurred to me, but I guess it's too late for that now. I was sorta hoping that her good nature would get Raven to come."

"Well then, let's hope her good nature is _really_ good," Cyborg replied.

"Okay? Of course I'm okay," said Raven matter-of-factly. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Well…" Starfire was in a familiar position of social embarrassment, her brow furrowed and fingers knotted. "What with all that happened today, and Terra returning… I just thought you might be a bit…"

"A bit what?" asked Raven, arching an eyebrow.

'Oh no; it is the arching of the eyebrow!'

'She is suspicious! Say something quick!'

"I… um…" Good old 'um'. It's always there when you can't think of what to say. "Alright, I am sorry," she admitted, cracking under the austere intensity of Raven's stare. "I only came to try and get you to come and talk with the rest of us because we think you have a serious problem with Beast Boy and Terra." This was delivered in a quick rush, most likely because Starfire was glad to be rid of the words.

Back in the main room, Cyborg slowly dragged a hand down his face in desperation.

"I don't think 'scrupulously honest' quite covers the full range of it," he intoned.

"Wait," said Robin, pointing at the video screen. "Raven hasn't spoken yet."

"Please, Raven; come and talk," Starfire pleaded. "Robin and Cyborg really are worried about you, as am I." Raven remained silent for a while.

"No," she declined flatly, turning around.

"If you don't come, I… I will hug you!" said Starfire assertively.

Raven actually stopped. Although hugging was meant to be a friendly act, Starfire did it in a way that should have been banned by international treaty. It would have been funny if it wasn't so rib-crackingly dangerous.

"Look, there's nothing to talk about anyway," said Raven in her best earnest voice, trying to wheedle her way out of it rather than just walking out. "I have no problems with Beast Boy and Terra."

Starfire pushed Raven out of the way – _politely_ – and walked into the room. She reached briskly under the table, feeling for the Spyder.

"No, no, no-no-no-_no_...! She found it," said Cyborg, every bit as deadpan as Raven could manage.

The Spyder's best efforts to back away had been foiled. Starfire held it up by one of its eight legs so Raven could see.

"I am very sorry that we did this, but I am afraid we spied on you with this bug."

'It's a mechanical arachnid, not a bug!' the pedantic part of Raven's mind screamed. 'It's got two legs too many to be a bug, for crying out loud!'

_"You spied on me?"_ the real Raven screamed, in equal parts horror and anger. Starfire winced, all but collapsing onto her knees and begging forgiveness.

"I'm really, _really_ sorry!" said Starfire, her eyes shut tight so she didn't have to see the furious Raven. "I should have stopped Cyborg, but we wanted to know how you were and he had a good hunch that you were really troubled and I knew you trust Cyborg and _please_ do not look at me like that!"

Raven calmed down, bit by bit over the course of several seconds. It was impossible to remain angry with Starfire cringing in front of you like that; it was like shouting at a cute little shiny-eyed kitten.

"They must have seen me undressing," said Raven sternly, determined not to let go of this even if the anger had mostly faded.

"No, I did not let them. I watched that part," said Starfire, un-wincing slowly. "Please, Raven; do this for me as your friend. I just want to make sure you are alright."

Although Raven gave Starfire a supremely odd look, she did come out of the room, very firmly closing and locking it behind her, muttering something about 'there's not going to be anything to talk about anyway'.

"I thank you most sincerely, friend Raven," said Starfire, her confidence regained.

"Do you mind letting me have a look at that bug?" Raven asked, firmly ignoring the pedantic voice.

Pushing her powers of darkness through the Spyder, Raven found the battery. It was the work of a moment to make it so that Cyborg and Robin were staring at a black screen.

"Aw, man!" said Cyborg, annoyed. "Doesn't she know how hard it is to repair things when they're that small?"

"Something gives me the impression that she doesn't much care," Robin answered. "Anyway, shouldn't we be preparing for Raven's arrival?"

"I'll make some herbal tea," said Cyborg, thinking quickly. "If that doesn't calm her down I don't know what will."

"Good idea," said Robin, in that sudden frenzy which occurs when people have been standing around for ages and suddenly realise that something important is imminently approaching. "We want to create as welcoming an environment as possible for Raven, so… um… we'll sit around the couch!" he decided, more or less on the spur of the moment.

"Around the couch?" Cyborg asked, eyebrow arched as he waited for the kettle to boil.

"Yes! Yes," Robin repeated less loudly, consciously making an effort to calm himself down. "Sitting in the soft chairs around the TV will give the conversation a more relaxed atmosphere than sitting around the dining table, right?"

"I guess so…" said Cyborg, in a less than ecstatic voice.

"Okay then," said Robin equably, taking the second best seat around the television. No prizes for guessing correctly who the first best chair was for.

"Although we probably shouldn't worry so much," said Cyborg, subconsciously tapping his foot impatiently as the kettle bubbled away. "I mean, Raven has enough self-control to overcome this, hasn't she? Our help is just to consolidate this. We don't need to worry about relaxing her-"

"Really?"

The servo motors in Cyborg's neck were severely taxed as his head whipped around, locating the source of the 'Really?' It had come from Raven.

-x-

The massive doors to Rothfar's royal chamber ground open, sounding as an earthquake. Indeed, the ground shook as they parted, revealing a guard. Much like the Praetorians of the ancient Roman Empire, this guard was one of Rothfar's personal guard; the elite of those at his command, and thus he was allowed to wear armour much like Rothfar's, but obviously of lesser quality. The guard also carried a glaive that was curved and pointed in such a way as to look like a flame.

Rothfar wondered at the guard's impudence, staring at him as the guard crossed the land bridge between the entrance and the throne island. He had to have a very good reason for interrupting one of the Ever-Flame's private councils. Standing before Rothfar's throne was an emissary from Nereya, Lady and Mistress of Earth.

The emissary was much slighter than most of her kind – like fire-spirits tended to be rash and hot-headed, earth-spirits were more often than not big and bulky. She was roughly humanoid in shape, but did not seem to curve much; her body was composed of polygons and abrupt edges, made of layers, like stone. Fine green moss substituted for hair, and two emeralds glimmered like eyes. Her symbol of status, the amaranthine cloak the emissary wore bore upon it the Seal of Earth; it looked like a white 'play' symbol back-to-front with a brown square fitted inside it.

"I don't think I need to remind you that this had better be good," Rothfar growled.

"It is, most noble lord," said the guard, kneeling before the Ever-Flame's throne. His back turned to the earth emissary, the guard flicked a finger towards the ground. A small spark of fire sprang down and then blossomed outwards in little rivulets across the rock, forming what looked much like a star. It winked out before the emissary could see what it was.

"Oh…" said Rothfar, realising. "Very well, guard; you may go." Saluting Rothfar, the guard turned and marched back to his post, passing the curious earth-spirit as he went. "Emissary Jahtek, I regret to announce that some vitally urgent business has arisen that must needs be seen to," said the Ever-Flame curtly. "I would be most grateful if you were to remain within the antechamber until its conclusion, whereupon we may resume negotiations."

"But of course, O Lord and Master of Fire," said Jahtek, summarily saluting Rothfar and following the guard out of the royal chamber.

Jahtek's (literally) emerald eyes flicked about the antechamber, looking for any clue as to what the important business could be. Apart from a few guards, there was nobody there.

The ground shook again as the door started to close. Jahtek watched intently.

The doors had closed, but Jahtek was left with the distinct impression that she'd seen a dark shadow flit through the tiny gap that was left just before they closed completely, faster than light… or then again she might not have.

There was something very odd going on here. Jahtek was no fool; Mistress Nereya had chosen her as an emissary because of this. What was with that shadow? It hadn't been caused by blockage of light like any normal shadow – Jahtek was sure of that. She knew for a fact that this main entrance was the only way in and out of the royal chamber, and that shadow was the only thing that had seemed to go in.

Mistress Nereya had to be informed. But Rothfar had commanded Jahtek to stay in the antechamber, and she had the distinct feeling that the four guards, one at each corner of the spacious room, hadn't been hand-picked for their ability to miss implied orders.

Jahtek smiled slightly. That was no problem.

She casually took a seat on one of the benches carved into the wall. It was stone, and therefore could be manipulated by any earth-spirit. Was Rothfar really that stupid?

Placing her hands innocently on the bench, Jahtek pushed her awareness down into the stone. She soon hit a snag which proved conclusively that Rothfar was a lot less stupid than Jahtek had thought he was – the entire room was in fact encircled by magma, trapped between the antechamber's walls and another cube outside them, forming a barrier in the stone that quite effectively stopped Jahtek in her tracks.

True, she could easily push some rock through the magma and get out, but what would happen if the guards sensed an irregularity in the lava flow? It was flowing around just behind the walls in a simple pattern, and Jahtek was positive that the guards were probably monitoring the flow. Sticking even the slightest bit of stone into the magma could have disastrous consequences.

Jahtek concentrated on the dilemma at hand. Mistress Nereya needed to be told what was going on – if Rothfar was planning something dangerous, it needed to be stopped… or maybe just diverted towards the earth-spirits' enemies.

Then it hit her. It was so simple, so obvious – a diversion. It would only work for a single moment though, and the guard's concentration on the lava flow would only be broken for a second; it had to be done quickly.

Coughing violently, Jahtek threw herself to the stone floor. The guards, alarmed, glanced at her; she was after all an emissary, and therefore was an important person who needed to be looked after. If somebody had somehow killed Mistress Nereya's most trusted ambassador there would be hell to pay, and the guards themselves would have to pay it.

Taking advantage of the guard's surprise and thus their break in concentration, Jahtek planted a hand on the ground, looking as though she was trying to hold herself up, and pushed a small promontory of rock through the magma barrier – just enough to get her awareness through. She sent the message – '_Odd goings-on at __Rothfar's__; come quickly.'_ – and then retracted both the promontory and her awareness. It was done, and the guards hadn't noticed it at all.

"Are you alright, Emissary Jahtek?" asked one of the guards, startled by her sudden bout of coughing and trying to help her up.

"I think I'll live," said Jahtek, leaning on the guard and prompting a sigh of relief from one of the less staunch guards. "It's just the air is so dry in here – it doesn't do an earth-spirit much good to desiccate." This was a bare-faced lie; Jahtek had already cast a simple hydration charm on herself before coming and was in no danger of drying out. Still, if it worked…

"Of course, Emissary Jahtek – I shall fetch some water immediately."

"Thank you, loyal sentry," said Jahtek graciously, pulling herself back onto the seat, making sure to shiver and quake slightly as though weakened.

Inside, where the guards couldn't see, Jahtek smiled smugly. When Rothfar found out about Jahtek's hi-jinks, there was going to be hell to pay, and with Mistress Nereya there to protect Jahtek it wasn't going to be her who paid it.

-x-

There was a moment of confusion as both Cyborg and Robin tried to simultaneously juggle the two ideas of 1) Raven having overheard something she shouldn't have and 2) Raven looking untidy.

'Problem One Solution: Act As Though Nothing Is Wrong. Problem Two Solution: See Previous Solution,' Cyborg's computerised brain supplied – Robin came to more or less the same conclusion… but not quickly enough, as it happened.

"Why are you staring at… oh," said Raven, looking at herself and realising why. "Wait, I need to go and-"

"No, friend Raven, please," said Starfire, barring Raven's way as the enchantress wheeled about on a heel, attempting to go back to her room. "Um… please allow me." A comb appeared in Starfire's hand with a suddenness that surprised even Raven.

"…Alright," Raven allowed after an awkward pause. Robin made a mental note to do something really, _really_ nice for Starfire afterwards.

It wasn't long before Starfire had ordered Raven's hair – with quite startling precision, too. The famously long-locked and red-headed alien obviously knew what she was doing when it came to the varied and wonderful art of hairstyling.

"Is this good?" asked Starfire anxiously, a mirror appearing before Raven's face just as suddenly as the comb; it was like being served by a magician hairdresser.

"Um… yes," said Raven. "Thank you, Starfire," she added. Even Raven feels guilty sometimes. After all Starfire had done for Raven, it would be the absolute zenith of bad manners not to at least say thanks.

Raven soon found herself severely regretting her conscience's decision as they sat her down in the best chair (making sure she was comfortable) with a steaming mug of herbal tea. Everyone likes to be looked after, but there's a thin line between pleasure and embarrassment.

"So… Starfire says you guys are worried about me," said Raven. Now that she'd got past the initial awkwardness, Raven decided that it was in fact quite nice to be pampered… however much she detested that word.

"Well… not so much worried as concerned," said Robin, the responsibility falling upon him to be the spokesman for the concerned party. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds, knowing that what he said next could either make or break their chances. "Look, Raven, I might as well just get to the point. I know you don't like secrets being kept from you, and you're going to find out sooner or later. It's not like shielding you from the truth is going to make it any easier for you to learn, so I'll just say it blunt right now. We're afraid that this problem between you, Terra and Beast Boy could awaken your… less desirable side."

"If we're going to be blunt, call a spade a spade," said Raven, brazenly forthright despite being dressed in a fuzzy bath-gown and lounging in a nest of cushions. "I do know that I have a demonic aspect to my personality."

"Yes, well; we think that your demonic side could take over in the anger arising from the emotional problems caused by Terra and Beast Boy's relationship," said Robin, arching his fingers.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Raven replied reassuringly, sipping at her mug. "I have no emotional problems."

"Really?" asked Cyborg, in exactly the same tone Raven had used when she'd first entered the room.

He raised his left arm and, making sure Raven had a good view of the video-screen on it, played some of the footage the Spyder had collected earlier.

_"I am not in love!" Raven shouted, abruptly sitting bolt upright, her hair almost falling down over her face in its attempt to keep up with the rest of her head. "Especially not with Beast Boy…"_

Cyborg sat back, his small but vital part in this conversation having been played. Although his face was completely expressionless, there was something about Cyborg's manner comparable to the poker player who has just revealed his hand to be a royal straight flush.

Starfire looked on apprehensively, hands clasped, as Raven looked away, biting into her lip but otherwise remaining perfectly inscrutable.

"That doesn't prove anything," she said carefully. Robin had to resist the urge to blurt out about how he'd heard countless convicts say exactly the same sentence Raven had just said.

"Alright, maybe it doesn't prove you're in love with anybody, let alone Beast Boy," said Robin, feeling as though he was saying 'of course the sky is green', "but it does prove that you've got an emotional issue or two. Not that I want to anger you or anything, but it's not an issueless person who shouts at themselves about denial of love."

"…Perhaps you're right. Either way, I'm tired and would like to be left alone for now," said Raven, summarily standing and striding over to the door. Robin looked to Starfire, but she'd already flown.

"Please, friend Raven; stay, if only for a little while," said Starfire pleadingly, standing between Raven and the way to her quarters. "We only want to assure that our friend is alright; please, stay."

"The thing that would make me feel alright right now is a bit of peace and quiet," said Raven, her voice sounding genuinely listless and fatigued, as though even speaking these words was an arduous effort. "Please move aside."

"But friend Raven, we-"

**"Move!"**

A blast of wild nyctokinetic energy knocked Starfire clear off her feet. Starfire's back hit the door with an audible noise somewhere between a thud and a crack, and the mug of herbal tea just missed Starfire's head, instead shattering against the door and spilling its still scalding contents over her.

Raven remained frozen as a statue, astonishment and horror at her own action writ large all over her face. Starfire writhed on the ground at her feet, screaming in pain at the boiling water burning the side of her face and neck. Robin unfroze first, pushing Raven out of the way as he practically leapt to Starfire's side.

Raven's eyes were locked onto Starfire, as the normally beautiful girl now had her eyes screwed tightly shut, all her radiant face drawn into an unnatural composition of agony. The scream never seemed to stop.

"I'm… so sorry," said Raven breathlessly, speaking the first words she could think of. "I didn't mean to-"

"Whether you meant to or not it's done!" Robin shouted, looking up at Raven furiously from where he knelt by Starfire. "Now are you gonna help or what?"

"Yes – yes, of course," said Raven automatically. Her mind had gone blank and Robin's order, even if it was just implied, was like a rock to hang onto in the middle of a rushing white-water river.

Raven moved Starfire's hands away from the burn; it was as though she was trying to make the scald go away just by tearing it off. Raven's hands glowed ice-blue, and she ran them gently over Starfire's face and neck. The scream stopped… but it was still ringing in Raven's ears.

"I'm _really_ sorry, Starfire," said Raven, a tone of desperate pleading in her voice. "Please forgive me – I lost control – I shouldn't have…" Raven stopped as she realised her apology had become disorganised babbling.

Starfire opened her eyes, and Raven realised just how green they were.

"Where's Robin…?" she asked weakly.

"Here."

Starfire reached up with trembling hands and Robin, clearly understanding, enfolded her in his arms. As Cyborg watched, he got the distinct feeling that, had the roles been reversed, Starfire would have been crying… but of course Robin didn't do that. What Raven thought as she watched was this.

'Look at how he's holding her… so fiercely protective. Don't you wish you had somebody to hold you like that?'

'Yes.'

And that was it.

The blankness that had filled Raven's mind had removed all the barriers it naturally had, even the subconscious ones, and Raven realised abruptly that she did want love, even if she didn't have it. Seeing it so strong in the bond between Starfire and Robin was unbearable for Raven and she turned away, the guilt of having hurt the person she considered to be a friend, possibly the closest she had, weighing very heavily on Raven's conscience.

As though in a dream, Raven felt someone leading her away from Starfire and Robin, still as they were deep in each others' tender embrace. Raven felt someone gently guide her into a seat. All Raven's senses felt like listening to someone through a brick wall; they were happening somewhere else, seemed fuzzy and indistinct and not all that relevant.

"I couldn't control myself… I hurt Starfire," said Raven, aiming to fill up the void from the easiest starting point; the simple and obvious truth.

"No you didn't, Raven," said the voice of the person who'd led her to the chair. Raven slowly realised it was Cyborg speaking, and this was confirmed as he drew a chair up in front of her, looking Raven earnestly in the eyes. His voice was completely calm and comforting, and Raven bent all her mind to listening to what it had to say. "It wasn't you that attacked Starfire. That was the demon; the demon isn't you."

"But I still lost control!" Raven protested, the guilt forcing her to confess.

"Yes, you did, but so do we all. You just have to try and avoid it, and deal with it when it happens anyway," said Cyborg soothingly. Raven's hands seemed to reach out involuntarily, and Cyborg, taking the hint, solemnly took hers in his. His metal fingers could be surprisingly gentle.

"It is vital that you do not let your insecurities take over you, now of all times. That's what the demon inside you feeds on. You have a deeply-rooted inferiority complex brought on by being different and being rejected as a result; I do too, and I know what it feels like," he continued, just talking and keeping Raven's mind occupied with listening rather than thinking. "You know you are better than that. Tell yourself that you are strong, and keep telling yourself that until you believe it. You _will_ pull through. What are you, Raven?"

"A Teen Titan… a human," said Raven, speaking as a blind woman who grabs onto the first thing she touches.

"That's right. You're a human. You are your _mother's_ daughter, _not_ your father's. You are a human, _not_ a demon. Repeat that now."

"But Starfire… I could have killed her," said Raven. Cyborg became alarmed as he saw the fear spreading through Raven's face, her eyes widening as they stared into something Cyborg could not see and wasn't all too sure he would want to if he could. "I could have _killed_ a person!"

"Raven!" Cyborg took a firm hold of Raven's shoulders, shaking her gently but hard enough to get her attention; her glazed eyes focused on him, however blearily. "Deny the demon! Remember who you are! You do not kill! You never could have; you never will!"

"No!" Raven shouted, her face clouded by doubt and uncertainty… and now there was anger. "You're wrong! I could have killed Starfire! You're **wrong!**"

'Oh, damn…' thought Cyborg despairingly as he saw the four blood-red eyes of Trigon slowly appear on Raven's contorted face. 'She's lost it. So I'll just have to get it back.'

"Raven… forgive me."

Raven's anger paused for an instant. For one precious instant, the sheer confusion of why she should forgive this deluded metal-melded creature and not the other way around caused Raven's demonic side to freeze, unaccustomed to what it was hearing. People ran, people screamed, and sometimes people fought… but one thing they did not do is ask forgiveness. It was like asking a fish to make sense of a bicycle.

Although Cyborg has somewhat of a reputation for being the tank of the Titans, and therefore is reputed as being rather clunky, nevertheless he could move with astonishing speed when he wanted to. Whipping around Raven in a blur of grey and blue, he was behind her within that precious instant, and _down_ came his hand-

Some writers say that it 'all goes black' when you suddenly plunge into unconsciousness. All Raven knew was that she suddenly felt nothing, save for the memory of a dull pain in the back of her head… and then not even that.

* * *


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Ignorance is Bliss

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just in case I forgot to mention; the idea of Nereya's shininess through her being made of crystal is in fact taken from Terry Pratchett's Discworld (yet again) and the aptly named 'Mr. Shine'. In that story he is King of the Trolls, so in this and other ways Nereya and Mr. Shine are irrefutably similar. Once again, I owe great thanks to the fantasy genius that is Mr. Pratchett, and urge all my readers to get hold of a Discworld book as soon as is humanly possible. Or perhaps faster.

-x-

Zhax slowed down after the door closed, and Rothfar's eyes had to quickly refocus as the blur of black turned into a discernible shape. The black-enshrouded figure ran across the bridge and knelt before the Ever-Flame's throne, her goggles up on her head. She didn't have to go through the whole 'Greetings, O most royal Lord and Master of Fire' spiel; Rothfar and Starbright were well acquainted enough that a simple kneeling salute was sufficient.

"I will not insult you by asking whether anyone saw you or not," said Rothfar. "Instead, Zhax, I would be much obliged if you were to give me what information you have, and with all due haste – I have an emissary from Nereya waiting in the antechamber."

"Of course," Starbright replied. She knew that Mistress Nereya's wrath was a particularly special kind; one that, although slow to arouse, gained a certain momentum and very soon became implacable. It was generally speaking best not to anger any of the Elemental Lords and Ladies, although humans didn't seem to understand this. "The girl is indeed a geomancer of a kind, although Mator Kesh was perhaps exaggerating. Nevertheless, she is exceedingly powerful despite a life of much hardship."

"In my experience it is a life of hardship that makes one powerful," said Rothfar. "Or dead," he added, reconsidering the point he'd made. "Why do you say 'geomancer of a kind'?"

"She does not manipulate the earth's strata by means of magic, my lord. It seems to be an ability that is unique to her, and does not require the harnessing of any external power such as magic. Yes, my lord," Zhax confirmed as Rothfar lifted a fiery eyebrow in interest, "it is a power that springs from within the girl."

"She was born with the ability?"

"More or less, my lord. It appears that she had these terrakinetic abilities from birth, but later experimentation increased the maximum output of said powers – at the cost of control." Zhax made no mention that she'd found this information in Terra's memories. This information was on a strictly need-to-know basis, and Rothfar, in Zhax's opinion, didn't need to know. If she had but known it, this was practically revenge for Rothfar not telling her about the resurrection rumours.

"Alright," said Rothfar, quickly assimilating this new information. "What is the girl's name and where exactly is she to be found?"

"She is Tara Markov, but is more commonly known by her superheroine name of 'Terra'." Rothfar snorted derisively at this rather crude pun, causing a small plume of flame to emanate from what could possibly be his nose. "She is to be found in a 'T'-shaped tower, not far off the coast of where Mator Kesh's domicile is. Be warned, noble lord; there are other superhuman beings in the tower too."

"However superhuman they may be, I am still superior to them," said Rothfar, grinning viciously and securing the gauntlet on his right hand, closing his clawed fingers into a crushing fist as he did so. "No force can possibly stand in the way of the Ever-Flame." Zhax sighed inwardly as her master's already engorged ego was inflated with a bit more hot air.

"She stopped a volcano before it even erupted, my lord. No human should be capable of that," she pointed out, trying to bring her master back to Earth. It succeeded, and Rothfar suddenly grew thoughtful.

"Yes… that is an interesting point. Do you know what her state was after Mator Kesh was halted?"

"One of extreme exhaustion, lord. In fact I'd go as far as saying she should in all probability have died."

"And how did you know this?"

The question was small, fleet and sharp, like a dart. Zhax realised, not without annoyance, that Rothfar had mentally outmanoeuvred her into telling him her source. This was never a good thing.

"I… searched her memories, my lord."

"Ah… interesting indeed," said Rothfar, grinning. "Did you also explore her subconscious memories?"

"Yes, I think so," said Zhax, uncertain as to where this line of questioning was going.

"Did you see a white horse and a black-cloaked rider there?" Zhax was shocked.

"Yes… yes, I did," she replied.

"And was he holding an hourglass?"

"Again, yes, my lord."

Rothfar the Ever-Flame smiled smugly, practically exuding self-satisfaction.

"So this confirms my suspicions…"

"How did you know?" asked Zhax, realising, not for the first time, that her master knew a lot more than he let on.

"Remember that I tell you this in the full trust that you will not tell anybody else without my say-so," said the Ever-Flame gravely. Zhax stared him full in the eyes, and nodded solemnly. "I have received rumours of a possible reincarnation. I do not know whether it is true or not, but if so…"

"So… that black-cloaked rider was Death?"

"Indeed he was," Rothfar confirmed, sitting back in his throne to ponder this knotty problem.

"But I thought mortals without the power of the True Eye could not see him."

"Everyone sees Death, Zhax," said Rothfar, speaking as one who had studied this. "It's just that most mortals do not pay attention, and instead Death only ever registers in their minds on a subconscious level, which is why you found that memory only in Terra's subconscious. There are some humans who have come to realise this; have you heard the saying 'Death was his constant companion'?" Zhax nodded; she knew what that felt like. "Well, some humans spend so much time in near-death situations that they become attuned to his presence, and can sense him even without the benefit of the True Eye's power. _Everyone_ can sense Death on some level…"

-x-

Tara Markov woke up, but didn't open her eyes just yet. She savoured the comfort of being able to just lie there and do nothing for a while.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. People always say 'I'm not doing anything' to mean 'I'm not _consciously_ doing anything _important_', but the human brain is forever multitasking millions of different bodily processes. So, here is the revised version: Tara savoured the comfort of being able to just lie there and not be dead.

And then, after a few seconds of just lying there not being dead, Tara suddenly realised that she was not, in fact, dead. It came in a sudden rush of pleasantly surprising realisation, rather like biting open a mediocre fruit to discover and taste the sweet nectars it contained within.

The door opened, and Cyborg walked in… but the way in which he was breathing impressed upon Tara that he probably hadn't walked all the way. She sat up, a great beaming smile on her face. It almost caused Cyborg to take a step back, but his presence of mind saw him through.

"I'm not dead!" cried Terra triumphantly.

"Um… yeah, I can see that," Cyborg replied, smiling jovially despite the sarcasm inherent in this statement. "But you're also not asleep. I was half expecting you to sleep for a bit longer."

"Who cares? I'm actually alive!" said Tara, whipping aside the bed-sheets in a flurry of white and getting to her feet. "And I'm not disabled or anything!"

"I don't know about disabled, but you really should stay in…" Cyborg's words froze on his tongue as he saw Tara sweep across the floor towards him with little flicks of her feet. He realised this was some bizarre form of victory dance. "Congratulations," said Cyborg. There was no way he was getting this girl to go back to sleep; she was full of enough life-affirming joy to give a manic-depressive person an identity crisis.

'Well, that must mean she has a _purpose _for which to live,' he thought. 'A very strong purpose too, if this rampant jubilation is anything to go by.'

"There's someone I've got to go see," said Tara, abruptly changing the mood by setting her expression as one of immoveable determination. She resolutely marched towards the door, but Cyborg quite easily stopped her nonetheless. When a slight teenage girl and a slightly-more-than-teenage tank of a young man have a struggle of physical will and won't, there are no prizes for guessing who'll win.

"Don't you think you should change first?" asked Cyborg, taking the tone of someone who's going out of their way to be considerate. "I mean, you've been sleeping in those clothes – not to mention you must have worn them for ages before that."

Tara looked down at herself to see the long black skin-tight clothing she'd worn underneath Slade's control suit. It didn't take long for a frown of disgust to appear on her brow.

"Alright… maybe I can put off seeing that person for a while," said Tara. To be perfectly honest, she felt as though the control suit was making her skin creep. "But I guess you cleaned out my room, huh?" she asked, the shame of the betrayal evident in the way she stood, her expression and voice.

"Restored everything this morning, good as new. Even repainted the sunset mountain patterns on the wall, since I know how much you like 'em," said Cyborg, in the assuring voice and grin of a professional who can use words like 'bifurcating dilator' and know what the hell he's going on about. Not only that, but the way he said it held absolutely no grudge whatsoever, and confirmed it with these next words. "Welcome back home, Terra."

Tara smiled at Cyborg in a way that could only be described as heart-meltingly cute.

"Aw, thanks," she said. "If you ever need a basketball partner or someone to help with fixing up the T-Car then call on me, okay?" These words were delivered in a rush as she dashed past Cyborg and out of the door.

"Will do!" Cyborg shouted as Terra ran off down the hall.

'Well… I guess that proves my theory of superhuman beings having accelerated healing rates,' he thought. 'Terra seems better than ever. I just hope the same will be true of Raven when she wakes up. Oh yeah!'

Cyborg was not the kind for dramatic gestures, but if he had been he might have snapped his fingers as his thoughts on the nature of superhuman physiology were interrupted by something a lot less academic.

He was going to see a young man who could be a dog.

-x-

The doors ground open again, shaking the royal chamber. Rothfar, alarmed, glanced at Zhax only to find she was already gone; probably into the magma moat around and below the island, since she was after all a fire-spirit. The arrogant grin came back to the Ever-Flame's features – it was folly to assume that Zhax of all people would not know when and how to hide.

However, any and all shreds of complacency in Rothfar were immediately stripped away when he witnessed who was standing beyond the door.

Nereya, more officially known as the 'Shining One', had gained this other name because of a simple and very obvious fact; her entire form was composed of diamond. It reflected and refracted light every which-way, meaning that she constantly emanated a stream of pure white light.

Because this could obviously be a hindrance when talking to other spirits (conversing with someone who has to continually shade their eyes can be very off-putting) Nereya habitually wore a hooded cloak of deepest black, almost as dark as Death's. The clasp of the cloak was the same Elemental Seal of Earth that adorned Jahtek's own cloak; the royal colours of deep blue and orange gold it was picked out in left the distinct impression that this was Nereya's badge of office.

She also wore a silver mask that was deceptively curved and sinuous, meaning that the only light which escaped from Nereya's crystalline form was the two pinpoints where the mask's eyes were cut out, allowing her to see. This light normally wasn't too bright, because the only light being reflected or refracted had to come in through these two tiny holes and therefore there wasn't much, but that only lasted as long as the mask stayed on.

It was especially important to pay attention to these two shining points of light, because Nereya's eyes would change colour in accordance with her mood. It wasn't something she could stop – the refractive qualities of her diamond body changed subtly as her state of mind did, meaning that certain colours of the spectrum would be more prevalent. Right now, her eyes were tinged pink. Rothfar made a mental note that pink was only a few steps away from red, and therefore that it would be a good idea not to tick Nereya off.

Rothfar looked over Nereya's shoulder and saw Jahtek, staying behind in the antechamber.

'It was _her_,' thought Rothfar furiously, and the fireball surrounding his black skull flared for one wrathful instant. He deduced instantly what had happened, and so had his guards, if their expressions of intense apprehension were anything to go by. The Ever-Flame made another mental note to deal with the guards later.

Whatever feelings may have been beneath the surface, this was a meeting between two of the Elemental Lords and Ladies and thus certain rituals of formality had to be observed. Rothfar brushed the vermillion red jewel fixed in his crown – immediately it spread out to enclose the Ever-Flame's piceous skull in a great helm, or-trimmed and atreous black like his armour. The three spikes on top of it grew perceptibly taller, especially the middle foremost one, under which the blazing red jewel itself transformed into the Elemental Seal of Fire. This Seal was quite simply an argent-coloured equilateral triangle resting on its long side with another one, this time coccineous red, inside it.

The Ever-Flame regally progressed down the steps of his throne. Although Rothfar wore a crimson cloak that was as tall as he was, it did not billow theatrically. It was just too heavy for that kind of thing.

The Shining One made her stately way across the bridge, and stopped just before she set foot on the throne island. The Lord of Fire and the Lady of Earth faced each other over the edge of the island.

"I, Rothfar the Ever-Flame, Lord and Master of Fire, do hereby request that you state your intent in my realm," said the Ever-Flame, speaking with the formal tone used in most official ceremonies. It was obvious that he'd said the words many times before.

"I, Nereya the Shining One, Lady and Mistress of Earth, do hereby state that my purpose in your realm is peaceful," intoned the Shining One in answer. Her voice was high and feminine, but underneath it was a low growl, like rock grinding against stone. "I wish only to hold council with you."

"I, Rothfar the Ever-Flame, Lord and Master of Fire, do see that your purpose is justly peaceful. You may enter my realm, insofar as your purpose is served."

Nereya nodded wordlessly in reply; the Ceremony of Entrance was complete, and the guards and Jahtek had witnessed it. The doors ground closed again, causing little chips of rock to fall – to Nereya it was like refreshing rain.

Rothfar turned back, but did not sit upon his throne. It was a gross _faux pas_ to sit upon the throne when another Elemental Lord or Lady was present; it was a statement of dominance, and all the Lords and Ladies were meant to be equal, hence the Ceremony of Entrance. Each Lord and Lady was more powerful than the others while in their own realm, obviously, but this fact was conveniently ignored in due deference to the maintenance of harmony within the Elemental Tetrarchy.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mistress Nereya?" asked Rothfar. Also his tone was perfectly pleasant, he knew what mischief had been perpetrated. Still, the less you seem to know, the more of an advantage you have.

"I have received word that you are keeping information from me, Master Rothfar," said Nereya curtly. Rothfar noted how she said 'I have received word', deftly manoeuvring around having to actually name the source. You didn't become one of the Tetrarchy without being well-skilled in the art of inaniloquence, more commonly known as 'speaking without saying anything' – most politicians learn this early in their career.

"I assure you, Mistress, nothing is being kept from you," said Rothfar reassuringly. The pink of Nereya's eyes darkened dangerously towards red.

"Then why has my source informed me that you held private council when my ambassador was here? As Emissary Jahtek has reported, you sent her from this room under suspicious circumstances. Nobody was seen to enter the room. You know, Rothfar the Ever-Flame, that what one of the Elemental Tetrarchy knows must be shared amongst all the others if harmony is to be maintained. The balance of power must be preserved."

There was a stony silence, and Nereya ultimately prevailed, being so much more stony than Rothfar. Nevertheless the Ever-Flame was loathe to reveal his secret, and strung out the silence as long as he dared.

Besides, he knew all about the balance of power. The Elemental Tetrarchy only worked because all the Lords and Ladies were equally powerful, and therefore they were too frightened to risk attacking each other. After all, any one of the Lords and Ladies who attacked another would immediately find the other two coming to the aid of the defender, for fear of what the people higher up would say…

Although the Lords and Ladies were rulers in their own right, this was only because another force even more potent than they had decided long ago to give them free reign, seeing that this system could work autonomously. Although none of them mentioned it, all the members of the Tetrarchy knew about Lenaron and Rashala…

They were a Lord and Lady, much like the Elemental Tetrarchy, but were often not included in the same list as them. Each sovereign of the Tetrarchy kept more or less to themselves, only bothering another one when necessary, but Lenaron and Rashala were so close that they were also called the Ka In Ta, or 'Two Halves of the Whole'.

The stability of the Tetrarchy was static and very much dependent on perpetual immutability, but the Ka Yin Ta was very much a fluid relationship where the balance of power easily swayed one way then the other, chaotically at times, it seemed… yet it worked, after a fashion. Although the concentration of power between Lenaron and Rashala ebbed and flowed this way and that, on average it ended up more or less balanced.

If one of the Tetrarchy was deposed then a replacement could easily be found from their spirit-kin, but if the bond of the Ka In Ta was broken then… well, it was quite simply unimaginable. There were no other spirits of light and dark, or at least none that anyone knew of – Lenaron and Rashala were the only ones of their respective kinds.

Finally, Rothfar spoke.

"I have also heard tell of interesting information," said Rothfar. "Zhax; you may as well show yourself."

A black blur stopped behind Rothfar, and then walked around to reveal itself to Nereya. The goggles were quite firmly on.

"Ah… is this the legendary Starbright?" asked Nereya with interest, and a slight tinge of yellow coloured the aura of her eyes. "I've heard about you. They say you can move with the speed of dark and the silence of death."

"Do they?" Zhax asked in return, keeping perfectly neutral. She was not to have an opinion of her own – not in Rothfar's presence, for he controlled her and thus chose what Starbright should be to others.

"I'm sure they do," said Rothfar in clipped tones. Zhax could have cut the tension in the air with one of her many knives; it was that palpable. "We are not here to discuss Zhax, however. I have heard a rumour that has somehow filtered down from up there – rumour of a resurrection."

"Intriguing indeed," Nereya replied. "But of course all rumours are to be taken with a pinch of salt."

"Yes, they are. That is why I had Zhax here check to see if it was true, or more specifically check on a certain possibility. She has found that Death was present – yes, Death himself," said Rothfar in response to Nereya's intrigued surprise. "The girl Tara Markov was shown her hourglass, and yet she continued to live completely unhindered. You know what that means."

"There has been a change in the temporal continuum," Nereya replied knowledgeably.

"Indeed there has. And there is only one being in the entirety of time and space who can authorise something of that nature."

Both Rothfar and Nereya glanced at the Ever-Flame's golden throne. On the front of the seatback, normally hidden by Rothfar's bulkily armoured form, were the engravings of Rothfar's office and his Seal, the upwards-pointing triangle, in the very centre. At the top was embedded a octagonal faceted fire-red ruby, of the kind that Rothfar seemed to like…

…and at the bottom, outlined in tones of ethereal blue, was a simple figure of eight inside a circle, the top half of each loop blacked out so that the bottom half, still of the throne's gold, looked like sparkling sand…

-x-

Beast Boy was woken from his less than graceful slumber by someone knocking on his door. Adopting his usual response, known by some as the 'ostrich manoeuvre', Beast Boy rolled over and pulled his pillow down over his ears.

"Hey, BB, it's me!" said Cyborg from the other side of the door.

Beast Boy loudly grumbled something to the overall effect of 'Go away!'

"It's about Terra!"

A lesser man than Cyborg might have fainted at the rapidity with which Beast Boy opened the door not even _two seconds_ after he'd finished speaking.

"Whatabouther?" asked Beast Boy urgently.

"Calm yourself, 'kay?" said Cyborg, smiling widely. "Terra's fine. She just woke up and now she's getting changed to meet you. Say…"

Cyborg looked Beast Boy over. So did Beast Boy. He was forced to admit that his current state of appearance would probably cause even Medusa to run away in terror.

"Thanks a lot buddy," said Beast Boy ephemerally. Cyborg listened at the closed door. There was the sound of rummaging coming from inside, and other noises that sounded suspiciously like _cleaning up_.

'Well, I guess this Tara/Garfield thing can't be _all_ bad,' thought Cyborg cheerily. However, any happiness that may have resulted from having heard Beast Boy doing the one thing he swore never to do was mitigated by another thought. 'What about Raven?'

* * *


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Sowing Seeds

* * *

Raven scrunched up her eyes tightly, unaccustomed to the bright sunlight which now streamed in through her window. The light didn't go away however much she mumbled at it, so, deciding to go with the flow for once, Raven opened her eyes and sat up.

"Oh… good morning, friend Raven," said Starfire, turning about to face the groggy bed-ridden creature shielding its eyes from the sun like some kind of vampire. "I am sorry; did I wake you?" Raven noted that her friend was standing next to the curtain, drawstring in hand.

"Yes… sort of… could you close the curtains just a bit, please?"

"Of course," Starfire complied, smiling brightly.

'What's the point of closing curtains when you've got Little Miss Sunshine?' Raven thought cynically.

"Not that I mean to be rude or anything, because you are my friend, but what exactly is it that you're doing in my room?"

"I'm here to look after you," Starfire explained.

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you," said Raven, an easily perceptible touch of irritability in her voice; the restoration of her customary darkness had done little to ameliorate her mood.

She threw aside the bedcovers and yawned widely – and then stopped.

"Why am I in my bath gown?"

"Do you not remember yesterday?" asked Starfire, taking a seat on the bed next to Raven. She shrugged, apparently not remembering at all. "Oh… Cyborg did say that there might be partial memory loss. That is why I came here."

"Memory loss?" asked Raven, alarmed. "Why? What happened?"

"Yesterday night, you… lost control," said Starfire, apprehensive of how Raven might react. "Of your anger, I mean," she clarified.

"Oh. Why?" asked Raven inquisitively.

"Um… Cyborg told me not to tell you – yet," said Starfire, seeing how Raven stared at her. "It could trigger a relapse. I hope you understand."

"I think so," said Raven. "Thanks, Starfire," she added, feeling that she had perhaps been a little mean to her friend. Starfire smiled warmly.

"I am sure you would have done the same for me."

"Well, when you become a half-demon hybrid, let me know and I'll return the favour," said Raven dryly, getting up to change. Starfire chuckled.

"Do not be so silly, Raven," said Starfire. Raven paused and looked at her oddly. Starfire could not decipher why Raven was staring at her with a quizzical expression on her face, and so she asked.

"Oh – I was just wondering why you never contract words," Raven responded, snapping out of it.

"What do you mean?" asked Starfire, puzzled.

"You know; 'it's' instead of 'it is' and 'don't' instead of 'do not'. You always speak in the full form. Why?"

"Well, I… I suppose it never really occurred to me," said Starfire thoughtfully. "You must remember, friend Raven, that I am a princess of Tamaran, and have thus been trained in courtly manners. Formal protocol dictates that one should speak in full and unabridged words; I guess I got stuck in the habit, even to the point of speaking this way even in informal situations like this," Starfire explained. She smiled at Raven. "Why did you ask?"

"Well, no important reason… as such," said Raven, still standing before Starfire, her face carefully blank. "It just might help people think of you as more human if you contract words like we do."

"Why would I want to be thought of as more human?" asked Starfire, again puzzled.

"I mean that people will accept you more readily and allow you into human society more easily if you speak like them," said Raven. Realisation dawned on Starfire.

"Oh! You mean like how the Ygrekka bird speaks in the tongue of the Loratis to gain assistance from them?" Raven's expression was, if anything, even blanker than before.

"I'm afraid you've lost me there." Starfire's brow furrowed in confusion at the use of an idiom. Raven sighed, and put it more literally. "You are referring to something that's outside my frame of reference."

"I'm sorry," said Starfire, smiling ruefully. "I was talking about two species of bird-like creatures that live on my planet. The Ygrekka is an especially eloquent specie which can easily modulate its vocal chords to cover a wide range of sounds – much like the African Grey or mynah birds of this world." Raven was impressed, though of course she didn't show it.

"You seem to know a lot about Earth animals, especially for an alien."

"I like studying wildlife of all planets. People often forget how varied and beautiful life can be."

'Yes, they do…' thought Raven quietly.

"Well, thanks again for your kindness. Would you mind leaving now? I'd like to get ready for the day."

"It's almost halfway through already, but I shall do as you say." Starfire got off the bed and, waving a cheery goodbye to Raven, she left.

'My, Starfire definitely learns fast,' thought Raven, heading to the bathroom to return the bathrobe. 'She should have all the animals of Earth under her belt in no time. Now if only we could teach her a few English idioms…'

-x-

Raven didn't know just yet, but something odd was going on in her head – to be more specific, in her mind. People often speak of the brain and the head and the mind as being all one and the same, but there is a distinct difference. The head contains the brain, that is to say a complex bag of tissues in which myriad electric impulses surge back and forth to facilitate the thinking process, conscious or subconscious. Whereas the mind…

The mind is an abstract concept used to describe what it is that the brain contains and creates within itself; like the soul of the body, it cannot be said to have any form that is concrete or fixed. Indeed, the mind and soul could be said to be the same thing, for they are those things which make somebody what they are. But for the nonce, we shall focus on the mind – _Raven's_ mind, to be more specific, for, as aforementioned, something odd and rather interesting was going on in it.

The emotions of Raven's mindscape were hiding behind rocks. All of them were hiding; not even Anger dared show her face… yet.

**"What in blood and vengeance is that thing?"** asked Anger, seething. Her ground state was one of severe annoyance and she absolutely _hated_ hiding, so her current state of ire was so high up there that it would probably have given airline pilots a big navigational problem.

"If I knew, you wouldn't have had to ask," replied Curiosity, more commonly known as Knowledge, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "We seem to have ascertained that it is dangerous, at the very least."

**"Let joy be unconfined; we know that it's dangerous!"** Anger bellowed sarcastically, nevertheless keeping her head down behind the rock. **"Anything else you might want to tell me that we already know?"**

"Yes. Raven is not here. And before you let fly another sarcastic comment," said Knowledge, seeing Anger's reaction from a mile off, "think about the implications of that." Anger tried thinking, but this wasn't something that came easily to her through the red mist that habitually hung over her sight.

"Um… does it mean that Raven doesn't know?" asked a small, high-pitched voice nearby, hidden behind a much smaller rock. "…Maybe this thing is hidden from her somehow. I think," the voice added nervously, like a disclaimer in an insurance advert.

"Spot on, Timidity," said Knowledge, smiling appreciatively. Anger growled – not for any reason as such, it was just one of the few things that she enjoyed. "That thing over there is somehow hidden or perhaps hiding itself from Raven's perception. If we can find out how and remove the obstruction, Raven can help us."

**"Then what are we waiting for?"** asked Anger, standing up and baring her teeth. **"Let's take it down!"**

"You got it, sister!" said another, spunkier voice nearby. They attacked the dark thingin the centre of the circle of rocks. The rocks had been dislodged from the crater, which in turn had been caused by the thing. It didn't take a rocket scientist, or even two brain cells, to work out what would happen next.

Knowledge sighed and counted to three. One, two, thr-

Exactly on three, two flashes of colour – one red, one forest green – flashed past Knowledge's rock and embedded themselves in the ground some way off.

"Alright… maybe that wasn't such a good idea," Courage admitted, getting up painfully with bruises in several places – and no bruise larger than the one on her pride.

"No kidding; just be thankful it hit you away instead of fighting you properly," Knowledge answered tersely, bidding her and Anger close. For once, they obeyed. "Listen closely, now. Since we can't remove the mental block, one of us has to send a message to Raven in person."

"But… but!" Timidity objected. "We're not allowed to go into the real world; Raven doesn't like it. Um."

"'Doesn't like'? I think it's a bit too late for 'doesn't like'," said Knowledge reproachfully. "This is an _emergency_. One of us needs to get through into the real world and warn Raven."

**"In case you haven't noticed, that thing is impregnable!"** said Anger, all the more riled up for having been beaten by it. Her anger was by now soaring past the moon (in a rocket built by the aforementioned scientist).

"The only way to the portal is _through_ the thing!" Courage protested.

Knowledge fixed the two of them with a long, cold stare. Something about the way even Anger shut up should tell you about how powerful the stare was.

"That doesn't matter," she began again. "We just need a distraction while Timidity runs around it. She's the quickest of us all. Anger, Courage – I need you to go into the breach once more." They stared at Knowledge blankly. "Attack the dark thing again," she translated, sighing.

"I'm up for that!" said Courage, as always high on bravado. "Let's go!" Although Anger was a bit more wary this time, she still surged in after Courage.

"Godspeed, Timidity," said Knowledge. The grey-hooded figure nodded fleetingly and dashed off.

For the second time in under a minute, two blurs of colour flashed past Knowledge – now they bounced several times, rather painfully. Knowledge hid her smile.

"Did Timidity get through?" she asked them urgently, as soon as Anger and Courage had got back to the base rock.

"Don't ask me; I was too busy getting my butt kicked," said Courage bitterly.

**"She did,"** Anger affirmed. Knowledge nodded.

That was one thing about Anger – even if she was volatile at times, she could be depended upon if the cause was a common one. Neither did Anger have any of the pettiness that some of the other emotions did. In short, Anger got the job done, which could be either a help or a hindrance depending on the situation.

"Then we can do naught but wait," said Knowledge grimly, sitting down cross-legged on the rocky ground. "Where are the others?"

"I think Curiosity and Sloth are over there by that ridge, but apart from that I don't know," Courage reported.

"Well go and tell everyone you can about our plan, okay?" Courage winked at Knowledge and whipped off.

**"You seem to have kept your head well,"** said Anger.

"It's what I do," said Knowledge simply. Anger nodded in acknowledgement of her sister's capability and sat down also, scratching at the dirt with her claws and growling under her breath in the same way that a child might fidget when told to sit.

In the centre of the crater was the thing that had caused so much commotion in Raven's mindscape. It was an amorphous cloud of miasmic darkness that seemed to roil about without any clear purpose. Knowledge had theories that it may be some kind of negative mental energy, for the second any emotion came near it the thing lashed out at them, reacting violently to the presence of positive mental energies (the emotions). Even Anger was positive in comparison to this _thing_.

In short, Knowledge was very worried. She just didn't show it, in true Raven style.

'Get here quickly, Raven,' thought Knowledge, hoping that her mental prayer would somehow be heard. 'If ever we needed you, it's now.'

-x-

Beast Boy wanted to impress Terra so much that he kept cleaning up for a while after there wasn't anything left to clean. There were still a few frightened microbes in the corner, but apart from that the room was sparklingly spotless. You could practically hear the _ting!_ noise as sunlight glinted off the polished surfaces.

Not only that, but…

"Dude! I never even knew I'd lost these things!" Beast Boy cried out joyously, advancing on a collection of random oddments that he'd lined up more or less neatly after having unearthed them from the unholy mess that had been his room. "There's my Deluxe 3000 Model Galactic Discombobulator, and my Triarii Stormshadow Invasion Ship Complete With Invasion Force (Batteries Not Included), and of course there's the crowning glory of it all; my _Squid-Man_® action figure with Tentacle Karate-Chop action!"

He was just about to start romping around the room, imagining various tall tales about the weird and supposedly wonderful toys he'd found, when there was a knock at the door. Beast Boy didn't freak out this time, for it was the reassuring deep thud of Cyborg's plastaltic knuckles.

(Plastalt: a translucent substance Cyborg invented by mixing various metals with plastic to create the fiberglass of the metallic world – super-resistant to all kinds of pressure and yet very light. It was perhaps inevitable that the Gamestation's controllers would be made of this substance, seeing how they got pounded several times a day.)

Beast Boy, still carrying Squid-Man, went over to the door, buzzing with quiet exuberance; he had found _Omnitronic Metal Munchers_ while searching through the junk in his room. It just so happened that it was one of Cyborg's games and had been lost for the best part of a year now.

He opened the door. He just failed to have a heart-attack. He closed the door.

Beast Boy may have been surprised beyond belief, but Tara couldn't help almost falling over in laughter. Practically paralysed with mirth, Tara tossed Cyborg's hand back to him – the metal giant winked from around the corner and vanished, leaving a chuckling Tara outside the door. The door opened again, revealing an irate Beast Boy.

"_What_ did you think you… were…?" Beast Boy's words melted away once he'd taken a good look at Tara.

Tara had on a milk-white dress that flowed flawlessly down her body, showing off its curves to _just_ the right degree. She was thin, no doubt, but Tara was still a teenage girl... and that meant certain things, especially to a teenage boy like a Garfield Logan.

The dress hung from straps on her otherwise bare shoulders, her skin seeming to Beast Boy as though it shone with some inner warmth. She had her hands held together in the perfect picture of maidenly gentility and innocence, her glittering blue eyes and smiling face making her all the more beautiful.

In short, Beast Boy was quite dumbfounded… though this was nothing new.

"What's wrong, Gar? Cat got your tongue?" asked Tara, still grinning warmly and brightly. Garfield pulled himself together.

"No, no, I just… um… well, I like the new look," said Garfield, finding something he could say in earnest and laughing nervously. Tara giggled.

"It's not a 'new look', although I might change my Titans uniform to something a bit more zippy," she answered, smiling. "I've been saving it for a special moment like this. Can I come in?"

Nodding eagerly, Garfield moved aside to allow Tara admittance. She gracefully strolled into the room and gave a whistle of appreciation.

"Wow. You didn't clean the whole place up just for me, did you?"

"Uh… you could say that," said Garfield, scratching the back of his neck nervously but achieving a grin nonetheless. The door shoonked shut.

"Well, all I can say is it's about time," said Tara, crossing the shockingly clean floor to Garfield's bunk bed. She took a seat on its edge, bouncing cheerily on the springs a few times and then falling onto her back, arms spread out leisurely. Garfield was puzzled – Terra had never been so at ease before, especially in his company. "So… what's with the squiddy thing you've got there?"

"What?" asked Garfield, alarmed. "Oh, Squid-Man… uh… yeah, well, I was just going through my old toys and sorting out which ones I could give to the charity shop in the city," he said, quickly improvising.

'You numbskull!' Garfield's inner child raged. 'Now you're going to have to give Squid-Man away!'

'Shut up! I'm talking with Terra.'

Again, Tara chuckled. She seemed full of laughs today.

"There's more than just one charity shop in Jump, you know," said Tara.

"Really? Well, maybe you could show me them," said Garfield, putting Squid-Man away for now.

There was an odd silence… at least it was awkward for Garfield, who just watched Tara, hoping she'd say something. Tara, on the other hand, didn't appear to have a care in the world. She was still lying back on the lower half of Garfield's bunk, staring at the ceiling for no apparent reason. Tara eventually realised that Garfield was watching her and looked at him. He jumped self-consciously.

"Oh, I'm sorry – I didn't mean to stare."

"No, that's okay," said Tara, her tone easy and flowing. "Won't you join me?"

"Uh… if you like." Garfield obliged, sitting on the edge of his bed a short way off from where Tara was still lying. There was another one of those one-sided awkward silences. "So, um… why did you come to my room? Not just to lie on my bed, right? I mean, you've got one of your own," said Garfield, smiling at his own wisecrack.

Tara laughed. However astoundingly unfunny it may have been, Tara closed her eyes, tilted her head back and laughed. It was what sunshine would sound like if you could play upon it with xylophone sticks. Garfield couldn't help but join her. For a few joyous seconds his room reverberated with the sound of pure and delighted laughter.

Tara slowly stopped, her laughter petering out bit by bit.

"You could always make me laugh… even if the joke was so dire it should have been banned by international treaty," said Tara, grinning widely. She rolled over onto her front and turned to face Garfield, gazing up at him with her chin resting on her arms.

"Hey, it wasn't _that_ bad," Garfield protested, returning the smile down at her nonetheless. Tara shrugged – an odd movement when one is lying on one's front.

"Depends how you look at it," she replied simply.

There was another silence, but this time it didn't seem so awkward to Garfield. Whatever utopia Tara's mind was currently residing in, Garfield felt that he was getting closer to being there himself.

"So…?" asked Garfield, after a while of staring at Squid-Man and wondering whether he really could be asked to give it away… even though he knew he was only trying to distract himself from looking at Tara.

"So what?" asked Tara, smiling lightly.

"So why did you come here?" Garfield repeated.

"Oh yeah," said Tara, as though remembering where she'd put her front-door keys. "Um…" Even though Tara had paused, it wasn't because she had something to say she couldn't bring herself to – more as though she wanted to say something but just couldn't think of the right words with which to frame the question.

"Please don't say anything so clichéd as 'I love you' or anything like that," said Garfield, clearly joking. Tara glanced at him, her eyes smiling more than her lips.

"Oh. Okay. I won't." Tara's reply was honest, but there was also something teasing in her voice. Garfield's eyes widened in visible astonishment.

"You mean…?" Garfield couldn't bring himself to say it. Tara nodded, affirming his suspicions. She giggled quietly at his dumbfounded expression. "Oh, well… if you really _do _want to say it then I won't stop you."

"No, that's okay," said Tara, gazing at Garfield happily. "You know now. It's the thought that counts, isn't it? Not so much the words."

"Um… if you say so," said Garfield, somewhat stumped by this profound statement. "I'd like it if you said the words and made it official, though," Garfield insisted, more or less pleading of Tara. She gave Garfield one of those looks which he _knew_ meant she was going to put him in a difficult situation; he prepared his mental defences.

"So why don't _you_ say them?" Tara asked teasingly.

"Not until _you_ do," Garfield riposted, adamant that he would not be the one to back off first.

"Alright, um… yes," said Tara, deciding. Garfield smiled in triumph, having got Tara to step down. "I wish to communicate to you my most sincere and true feelings of profound and enduring emotional attachment and affection." Garfield's triumphant smile slowly faded away – again, Tara started chuckling at his confounded expression. He looked absolutely gormless with one eye opened wider than physiology should allow and the other crushed into a post-box-like slit.

"You _what_?" he asked, completely bamboozled. Tara sat up next to Garfield, noticeably increasing their proximity (Garfield did the noticing), and lovingly held him close, resting her golden-haired head upon Garfield's shoulder.

"Well, you did _say_ that you didn't want me to say 'I love you', so I just… reworded it a bit," said Tara, still giggling quietly. Garfield rolled his eyes, deciding he'd had enough of being so standoffish. Tara was giving herself to him. It would be rude not to accept the many and indubitably enticing gifts this opportunity presented…

He put his arms about Tara's waist and drew her close to himself, feeling her warm skin through the thin yet opaque white dress she wore. Tara pulled her head up suddenly at the feel of his hands, glancing at Garfield with a surprised yet happy expression.

"Is this the part where we kiss?" asked Tara, still smiling widely.

"If you like," answered Garfield indifferently, hiding his desire well – his heart was thudding inside his chest.

Tara chuckled yet again and threw her arms around Garfield's shoulders, slowly pushing him down onto the bed. He offered little resistance, surprisingly enough.

"Only…" said Tara quietly, "I don't know how." She pulled herself up onto her elbows. Garfield tried to ignore how she was lying on top of him.

"You mean you don't know how to kiss?" he asked plainly.

"No, I don't." Garfield paused.

"Neither do I," he replied. Tara chuckled. "At least, I've read stuff about it, but that's only theory." Tara looked at him oddly.

"You've read up on how to kiss?" Garfield returned Tara's odd look with his own defiant one.

"Yeah… what's so wrong about that?" asked Garfield. In truth he felt awkward beyond all reasonable doubt, what with how Tara was positioned in relation to him.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong about it," said Tara perfectly reasonably, pulling herself up Garfield's length until their faces were one above the other. "You're really defensive all of a sudden," she added, smiling teasingly.

"Well, the way you're… I can only describe it as coming on to me," said Garfield. "It's…"

"It's what?" asked Tara, eager to know. She didn't seem to be afraid that Garfield might say anything reprehensible.

"It's… a bit unnerving, you know?" he said. Tara clearly didn't.

"Isn't it what you wanted?" she questioned.

"Yeah, but… well, why are you so different?" asked Garfield. Tara's brow was furrowed in puzzlement; additional explanation was obviously required. "Why are you suddenly so forthright about how you feel for me?"

"Oh…" Tara seemed to have realised what it was Garfield was going on about and backed off, sitting up. "I'm sorry," she added, truly regretful. "I guess I have changed… but then again, they do say how death can change your perspective on life." Garfield sat up too, listening earnestly. "Back in the volcano, I really did think I was going to die. In that moment, the one thing I wanted to do more than anything else was tell you that I loved you. And then I didn't die. Do you see?" Tara asked Garfield, wanting him to empathise with her. "That's why I'm being so upfront about this. I don't want to go through another experience like that knowing that I passed up my second chance to tell you how I feel."

"I can't really see exactly how you feel because I've never nearly died when I wanted to tell someone I love them, but I guess I can sorta understand," Garfield answered, smiling self-mockingly.

There was another pause as Garfield thought this over in more detail. Tara coughed, making him look up.

"Can we get back to kissing, please?" asked Tara, ever so politely. "I don't want to go through another life-or-death experience not having kissed you."

"First you said you wanted to tell me that you loved me before you died, now you want to kiss me before you die… it seems there'll always be some unfinished business for you," said Garfield, half-jokingly but also with a measure in earnest.

"Not if I have anything to do with it." There was definite intent in Tara's voice as she roused herself, moving over to her beloved.

Garfield was sitting up against the wall on the edge of his bed, so Tara came over to him. She sat across his lap, her legs over his. Garfield held Tara close to himself with an arm around her slender shoulders, scrutinising her glittering blue eyes to the last… then of course there was her dazzling smile.

"Are you going to take much longer?" she asked, with a tone of annoyance.

"Well, I-" Tara sighed at Garfield's endless banter and leaned up from his arms to bring their lips into contact.

They decided later, when they found out how to kiss properly, that the first one hadn't been at all bad.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I hope you don't mind me leaving out the kissing, but the chapter ended, so there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

* * *


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Nefarious Schemes 'R' Us

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Hadrera's name has been changed. The name I changed it to owes its creation to the computer game _Warhammer__ 40,000: Dawn of War – Dark Crusade_. I tried to think of a new name for Hadrera which would possibly revitalise her character and cast off her old and frankly insignificant role; if you remember the heady days of _The Fifth __Colour_ you will know that Hadrera wasn't even a _tertiary_ character, let alone a secondary one.

The new name is derived, secondly from the superb game mentioned above, but primarily from the sound that water makes. Well, the sound that I _imagine_ water makes; it makes so many noises, and as anyone who regularly uses onomatopoeia in their writing will know it is extremely difficult to pin down a sound on paper in the form of letters, words and thereby phonetic units of value. Anyways, enough said; Hadrera's name has been changed, and the same goes for Gayar, for similar reasons. I hope you like the new names, and I am also working on ways to work the new Hadrera into the story and make her a proper character. Again, the same goes for the new Gayar.

(SUPER AWESOME EDIT POWER _GO_: the umlaut ((two dots over a letter)) was merely a question of taste. In other words, I added it on to the end because I think it looks cool, not because it has implications of world-shaping importance. Unless, of course, you want it to.)

-x-

Nereya had left soon after with Jahtek in tow, saying that she had urgent business to attend to. This was perfectly fine with Rothfar, for he also had important affairs to set in order, both for his and Nereya's sake. After he'd taken care of the guards who were _supposed_ to have been watching Jahtek and then found likely candidates to fill their suddenly empty positions, Rothfar went on an intelligence-gathering mission.

Normally he'd have sent one of his lackeys to collect information, but on this occasion sending a servant would have been quite beyond the pale. Rothfar wished to obtain information from someone at least equal to him on the ladder of status and power, so he had to go in person…

The Ever-Flame had seen many odd things in his time, but the object that then stood before him just about took the biscuit. It consisted of four panels of glass, fixed in metal frames which spun around on a central vertical axis. This was, in turn, contained inside an upright tube of fibreglass with two gaps in it, presumably to allow access.

In short, Rothfar had never seen a revolving door before. He understood what a door was and that they were for opening and closing. This one quite obviously did neither. He was also an anthropomorphic personification on a mission and had no time to be messing around with stuff he didn't understand, so-

The receptionist didn't even look up when she heard the deafening cacophony of metal and glass being instantaneously melted into a messy lump of grey sludge. Calmly finishing the paperwork she currently had to complete, the receptionist put down her pen, shuffled her papers into a neater order and _then_ looked up.

The security guards rushed into the room upon hearing the melting of the revolving door, saw Rothfar and wisely ran for their lives.

"Lord Ever-Flame, welcome to the Truth Bureau," said the receptionist pleasantly, a warm and welcoming smile suddenly appearing on her face as if somebody somewhere had flicked the 'Smile' switch. "What business do you have with us today?"

Rothfar didn't reply for a moment. He was too busy giving his surroundings a disdainful glare.

The Ever-Flame was standing in front of a wide, long glass-topped black-lacquered wooden counter. Above this was a discrete and tasteful conglomeration of metal, glass and plastic, displaying, for all who could possibly care, 'The Truth Bureau. Bespoke Oracular Divinations While You Wait.'

Behind Rothfar were several of those oh-so tasteful black and puffy leather-covered chairs that look as though they'd been tastefully made out of Lego blocks, next to a table of design similar to that of the counter. Tastefully selected bonsai trees stood on tasteful black marble columns. Replicas of tasteful ancient Japanese art and various other tasteful specimens that looked like an accident in a paint factory hung tastefully above them on the white walls. The floor was of tasteful regular square grey tiles that were so tastefully shiny you could have eaten your dinner off them… if you didn't mind your dinner tasting like floor detergent.

"Lord Ever-Flame? I'm sorry; do the furnishings displease you?" the receptionist enquired sweetly.

"Yes," growled Rothfar. "They do." There's nothing quite like a growl to get your point across.

"I shall have them replaced immediately," said the receptionist brightly.

She excused herself and stood up authoritatively, giving the room a good glare to make sure it knew who was boss. Then the receptionist pointed and clicked her fingers at different objects; the table became a sacrificial altar with various doom-laden runes engraved in it; the puffy Lego-chairs turned into pews of hard brown wood; the tasteful black marble columns turned into metal brackets on the walls, the bonsai trees in turn transforming into fierce orange-blue flames; the paintings became windows across which stout iron bars were fixed; the floor, walls and ceiling were now made of big cold grey slabs of rutted stone… but the counter stayed firmly unchanged. The receptionist snapped her fingers at it a few times, but the counter obdurately refused to be anything other than a counter of annoyingly new-age metal and glass design.

"I apologise for the counter," said the receptionist smoothly. "Is the rest to your liking?"

"…Maybe," Rothfar admitted, giving it a dubious sideways glance.

"So, what business do you wish to carry out today, Lord Ever-Flame?" the receptionist enquired, smiling gently as she sat on the pew behind the counter. Instead of the slick black business-suit she'd had on earlier, the receptionist was now clothed in a hooded robe that hid her eyes in sinister shadow… but it was still just as black as the suit. Certain conventions had to be maintained.

"Yes… the information I seek is of a somewhat confidential nature," said Rothfar, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"Ah. Do you wish me to contact one of the superiors, milord?" the receptionist continued.

"Indeed I do."

"May I enquire as to the nature of your enquiry, Lord Ever-Flame?"

"…You may inform your superiors that it is to do with the Time Lord," Rothfar imparted, with an air of great gravitas. The receptionist treated it the same way as she would a child who wanted to see their dad at work.

"Very well, Lord Ever-Flame; if you wouldn't mind waiting for a few moments someone with information in that department will be with you directly. Thank you," said the receptionist, pointing one example of inscrutably perfect manicuring over to the waiting pews.

The Ever-Flame went to wait on one of the pews. He soon tired of it and had the receptionist turn them back into comfy leather chairs. Appearances may count for a lot, but comfort and convenience beat them hands down every time.

"Someone will see you now, milord," said the receptionist. Rothfar turned his attention to one of the heavy wooden doors that sounded in dire need of oiling.

"Ah, we're doing the Gothic Dungeon theme, are we?" asked the man who'd just entered of the receptionist, who nodded in reply. "Alright then," he said briskly and snapped his fingers. The sharp business-suit he had on instantly changed into a suit of tarnished medieval armour – with spikes. Not all that unlike Rothfar's own armour. "Lord Rothfar! Glad to make your acquaintance," he continued jovially, taking off his helm and proffering an armoured hand which Rothfar shook.

He looked the man up and down, taking in the silver-white hair and ice-blue eyes. They really were _ice_-blue, tinged with white like frost; not just light blue like the sky. The man's hair was presentable, but slightly ruffled, as though the minimum of effort had gone into it.

Rothfar looked in greater detail at the man's face. Recognition started to dawn. Despite his youthful appearance, there was something sharp and wise about his eyes that suggested great age – but also great vitality and vivacity.

"Do I know you?" asked Rothfar, with an expression of mild interest.

"I daresay you do," the man replied easily, taking a seat on one of the comfy black leather chairs. His armour's spikes punctured the leather, causing the receptionist to tut disapprovingly. "I used to be something of a celebrity." Rothfar stared at the man for a while, trying to work out who he was.

"Klivor Magecast?" asked Rothfar.

"I should be so lucky," said the man, rolling his eyes. "That buffoon Magecast makes millions on the 5D chat-show circuit."

"Olivarius Hame Wazzock?" the Ever-Flame queried, pointing inquisitively at the man. He replied with an amused smile.

"I very much hope not," said the temporarily anonymous man. "I don't much fancy doing the weird things he does with metafish and ultraporcupines. Guess again."

Rothfar paused for a moment in contemplation. He'd seen that face before somewhere – he could swear it… then he realised why the face was so difficult to remember. It had spent most its time inside a helm.

"Vorlan Demonbane!" said Rothfar triumphantly, absolutely certain he'd got it this time. The man nodded, smiling.

"Yes, it's me," he acknowledged affably, "although Demonbane was just a nickname."

"Well…" said Rothfar, surprised. "This is the last place I'd expect to find _you_."

"Let's just say I know how to take care of myself," said Vorlan lightly. "I lost the job that made me famous, but I was too popular to be thrown out on the street, so I got given a comfy desk job. Nowhere near as good as the real thing of course, but it's a decent living."

"So it's true you were fired?" Vorlan nodded ruefully in response.

"I'm afraid so. To be precise, I was not so much fired as resigned; after the way things turned out after the whole Trigon debacle I didn't really have any other choice. If I hadn't given up my post they would have forced me to, so I took the only honourable route out."

"Trigon? Oh," said Rothfar, looking up and away for a moment as he searched through his memory for what Vorlan was referring to. "I remember that. Quite a long time ago now."

"Couple of centuries, no less," said Vorlan breezily. "Still, I get by. Anyway, what can I do for you, Lord Ever-Flame?"

"Yes, well… it's about the Time Lord," said Rothfar, leaning closer to Vorlan in a secretive manner. He glanced suspiciously at the receptionist. "Can she be trusted?"

"Certainly," Vorlan replied reassuringly. "We are firm believers in client confidentiality."

"…Very well. Are these rumours of a resurrection authorised by the Time Lord true?" he asked in a low voice, not feeling completely safe either way.

Rothfar knew well that knowledge is power, but even more powerful than that was knowledge of who has what power, as it were. If anyone got at the receptionist then it could have _consequences_ for Rothfar.

"Ah, so you've heard that gossip too?" said Vorlan genially. "Well, to be perfectly frank with you, we have absolutely no idea as to its validity."

"But you're the Truth Bureau!" Rothfar burst out angrily, spitting sparks. "How can anyone know if not you?"

"Ah, that's the difficult part, you see," said Vorlan, sitting back. "The truth is hard enough to define as it is."

"Don't be stupid," said Rothfar, clearly nettled by Vorlan's lackadaisical attitude. "The truth is the truth."

"And that is a tautology. Of course the truth is the truth; it could hardly be anything else, could it?" asked Vorlan. "Or could it…?" he added, grinning enigmatically. He was enjoying winding up the Ever-Flame; it wasn't something many entities did without getting to know how it feels like to be toast.

"Stop playing games with me, Vorlan. Demonbane or no, you are part of the Truth Bureau. If something is true, you know about it," Rothfar growled. "Now is this rumour _true or not_?"

"Yes."

"Thank you!"

"And no."

There was a difficult silence during which Rothfar attempted to melt Vorlan's head just by glaring at it. His anger met stolid icy-blue eyes.

"There's something you're not telling me," Rothfar rumbled.

"There is, in fact," said Vorlan lightly. "It's to do with temporal physics. You are asking about the Time Lord, after all. Do you know of the Trousers of Time?" Rothfar's frown temporarily became one of puzzlement rather than ire, and he shook his head. "Well, there is a theory which states that, for every possible outcome of any event, another alternate reality has to be created to account for it. The Trousers of Time is a simplification of this. Say, for example, that someone answers a yes or no question. They have two possible choices, so another alternate reality has to be created to account for all the consequences; the second leg of the Trousers of Time, so to speak. The person could of course choose not to answer the question, or answer it with one of their own, but that's just splitting hairs," Vorlan explained pleasantly.

"And what exactly has this got to do with _my_ question?" asked Rothfar, his voice low and dangerous.

"We can't answer your question for certain, because it is… well…" Vorlan frowned uncertainly. "There isn't just one truth that I can tell you, due to the whole multireal nature of time, as I just explained to you. There appears to be a lot of temporal and real confusion at the moment; there are alternate realities conning all over the place."

"Conning?" asked Rothfar, once again at a loss.

"Sorry; converging," Vorlan _continued_ to explain pleasantly. "I have explained the divergence process, illustrated by the Trousers of Time, but it is also possible for alternate realities to _con_verge should they become similar enough, which is after all possible in an infinite reality. However, the convergence rate has shot up recently. They seem to be conglomerating into singularities. That is to say, an alternate reality with a lot of potential to diverge and create other alternate realities," Vorlan added quickly, once again seeing that now familiar perplexed expression on the Ever-Flame's burning skull.

"Look, cut the jargon, okay? My business is fire and heat in general; I don't know, want or need any of this temporal crap. What's the upshot of all this?"

"The upshot is…" Vorlan leaned closer, with the air of one imparting a great secret. Rothfar leaned forward as well, relieved to be finally getting somewhere. "The upshot is that nobody really knows what's going to happen."

Vorlan sat back again and steepled his fingers. Rothfar stared at him incredulously.

**"So why didn't you tell me that at the beginning?"** Rothfar roared, his temper stretched well beyond breaking point.

"Well, it's a bit embarrassing to admit that you don't actually know the answer if you work for the Truth Bureau," said Vorlan awkwardly, shifting in his seat.

Rothfar didn't so much stand up as shoot up from his seat, pointing a spiky finger of metal at Vorlan. Again, he stared back with cool blue eyes.

"Just tell me **this**," Rothfar demanded heatedly, "and none of the temporal mumbo jumbo this time."

"Okay," said Vorlan equably.

"Right. If you, as the Truth Bureau, don't know this information, then _nobody else_ knows, correct?"

"Um… well, yes, that is true, I suppose," said Vorlan after a brief moment of consideration. "The only other person who could really know about this is the Time Lord himself and anyone he chooses to involve."

"Fine," said Rothfar, placated in some small measure. "So the chances of anyone else knowing are minimal. Another question; is it possible to track the Time Lord?"

"Well… not really, no," said Vorlan, again using that tone of voice which meant long and boring explanations.

"Keep it short," Rothfar growled, anticipating the explanation. Vorlan nodded.

"Very well. It is not in fact possible to exactly pinpoint where or indeed _when_ the Time Lord is, for he exists everywhere and everywhen simultaneously, but it _is_ possible to track his activities and what he influences on the rare occasions when the Time Lord temporarily focuses on one particular time and place."

"How?" asked Rothfar, literally on the edge of his seat.

"Again, I can't help you there," said Vorlan, shrugging. "All we know about tracking the Time Lord's activities is that it _is_ theoretically possible, but how one would go about it is still a mystery. Research is being conducted in this area and if anything turns up you'll be the first to know, but apart from that I can't really give you anything concrete."

"Hm…" Rothfar sat back and digested this new information. "Thank you, Vorlan Demonbane. You have been most helpful."

"Well, you know me," said Vorlan, smiling pleasantly, "always willing to help."

"Indeed…"

They shook hands again and parted. Rothfar may have been interested to know that he wasn't the only one to come away from this conversation with new and interesting information.

-x-

Raven secured her cloak in place with her signature medallion. Her hands were working almost autonomously – Raven's mind was somewhere else. For a start, she had a ravenous hunger on her… no pun intended.

So you may well imagine her annoyance at being held up by Timidity. The little grey figure appeared before her quite precipitously and instantly shied away as soon as Raven's furious eyes alighted on her.

"_What_ are you doing in the real world?" she demanded, almost roaring in her vexation. Timidity mumbled something nervously. "Speak louder," sighed Raven, trying to make her tone gentler in allowance of Timidity; it was like trying to speak to a bunny rabbit.

"There's something going on… in the mindscape. Knowledge said you should come," said Timidity, still on a low volume but at least audible this time.

"'Something'?" asked Raven, eyebrow raised in interest. If Knowledge had said this then it was bound to be worthwhile.

"Yes… a black cloudy thing. Um. Knowledge said you couldn't sense it because of… some kind of mental block. It made it," Timidity added, speaking like a true orator.

"Thank you," said Raven, in the voice of one who is trying very, _very_ hard to be nice and could suddenly not be at any moment due to extreme annoyance. "But why did you actually come _out_? Surely you could have told me from in… how powerful is that thing?" asked Raven suddenly, realising how much danger her mindscape might be in.

"It beat Anger and Courage easily."

_"Together?"_ Raven asked incredulously. Timidity cowered at Raven's sudden rise in tone and volume.

"…Yes."

"Well, I suppose breakfast will have to wait then," said Raven briskly, drawing up her hood in a businesslike manner.

"Lunch, actually," Timidity pointed out quietly. Raven rolled her eyes.

"Whatever! Let's get going already."

-x-

Nereya the Shining One stood on the edge of what used to be Mator Kesh's volcano. Her glittering eyes observed what was left of it.

The ructions that had been narrowly averted from destroying Jump City had not been at all kind to their creator. Although Mator Kesh was spared his life for services rendered _vis__ a __vis_the reincarnated terrakinetic superhuman, he had still been forcefully evicted from his volcano as stipulated in the charter of the Volcanic Union of Labourers and the Council of Assistant Notables (V.U.L.C.A.N., possibly one of the worst-constructed and derived acronyms ever).

This meant there was now a post open and somebody had to fill it. Until then it was in Nereya's possession; in escrow. Apparently Rothfar had other business to take care of, although he had as usual been rather vague as to what exactly it was he had to do. Still, that was none of Nereya's business… yet.

A perfect globe of shining translucent blue water hovered at Nereya's side. As you might have guessed, this new character was another of the Elemental Tetrarchy. She was not, as described, an anthropomorphic personification like Nereya or Rothfar. Indeed, she specifically wanted _not_ to have an identity, but for the sake of both convenience and balance had named herself Shaswë and assumed a female persona.

As aforementioned, Shaswë had no fixed body. This was principally because, as avatar of all that is water, it would be very difficult for her to create a human-shaped form that was in any way rigid or functional. This was, however, just an excuse, because Aeron, the Lord and Master of Air and Wind, had already found a way around this. Shaswë just preferred to stay as she was.

True, sailors have often told of how the ocean is a woman and have given it such a form many times over, but that was not Shaswë. She entrusted the seas to a subordinate who was named, oddly enough for an elemental spirit, Mary, and had an entire department to herself.

No, Shaswë was much more than that, for she dealt with _all_ matters that pertained unto water; from the Pacific Ocean to the tiniest forest streams; from tsunamis to the tiniest molecule of humidity hanging in the air; from – well, you get the picture.

She was also surveying the volcano to see what state it was in, which was rather an eerie sight to behold considering how Shaswë had no visible material eyes. The roof had collapsed in not long after Mator Kesh had left, littering the volcano's now cooled floor with detritus. After all, with no god to maintain it a volcano is hardly going to survive much longer, and this particular volcano had already been brought to its knees by the terrakinetic human girl.

Shaswë 'spoke'. Because she didn't have a human form she didn't have a human voice either, and so told others what she thought through the rushing of her globe waters. All the Lords and Ladies understood her… except Rothfar, for obvious reasons.

_"The place is a dump,"_ 'said' Shaswë. Nereya cleared her throat, which sounded more like sandpaper being scoured against gravel. _"Did I break protocol?"_

"Yes, you did," said Nereya patiently. The thing about Shaswë was that she had a lot of trouble understanding what manners were for, being as how she had no feelings of her own and didn't understand what it was like to have them hurt. "It is not polite to speak ill of an entity or thing, remember?"

_"Yes. I do,"_ Shaswë answered. _"But it is the truth,"_ she added, as ever irredeemably practical.

"I'm afraid it is," Nereya sighed. "Never fear; I can fix it up for your protégé. What is her name, anyway?"

_"_His_ name,"_ Shaswë corrected, _"is __Olv__."_ Although Nereya was of the opinion that this name contained far too few vowels, she said nothing of it.

"Good. I shall make the necessary arrangements; you know how it is."

_"I do."_

Although it was well within Nereya's ability to reshape the entire volcano into something more presentable with a single thought, that was not how things worked in the human world. These were natural changes, and as everyone knows Mother Nature takes her own time. It upset the humans if things happened to rapidly, and sometimes a few of them got killed.

Obviously a few crushed _homo sapiens_ was no problem, but if things got out of hand there would be no belief left for them and all the elemental spirits would degenerate into the physical and geological processes they represented, rather than being gifted with sentience as they were.

_"My water is ready. Let it run,"_ 'said' Shaswë. Nereya nodded and obliged.

Almost instantly, small trickles of water started to pour into the volcano. So far it would do no more than just turn the dirt to mud, but nature's changes would allow it to build up gradually over time…

"Olv will arrive soon?" Shaswë's waters shuddered briefly, which was her version of a nod. "Then we should leave here. I have a favour I must ask of you…"

-x-

Raven looked around at her gathered emotions and sighed wearily. They were all arguing amongst themselves. Well, not all of them of course – Timidity wasn't exactly the type who would engage in a hammer-and-nail argument and Sloth… well. She wasn't the type to do _anything._

"Alright, _shut up_" she shouted. The emotions' arguments petered away into the ethereal silence of Raven's mindscape. "Now then; Timidity came to me saying that there was some kind of mental anomaly in my mind that was attacking you and blocking my perception of it, is this correct?" Raven questioned.

"Yes," Knowledge affirmed, pushing her glasses back up her nose in the customary fashion. "I suspect it may in fact be a conglomeration of…" Knowledge looked down disdainfully and kicked the sleeping Sloth in the side; she awoke with a cry of pain. "Pay attention. I'm not explaining this for my own benefit, you know. Anyway, I believe the intruder was formed out of negative mental energy."

"Oh… right. I guess that would explain why it attacked you, then," said Raven, mostly to herself.

"Yeah, but we-"

"Shut up, Courage," Raven ordered curtly, not even looking at the addressee. "So, what happened to it?"

The emotions had apparently decided to enter the Floor Observation Championships of Ursa Minor Alpha, shuffling their feet in embarrassment… except of course Anger and Pride, the only two emotions which were incapable of mixing with embarrassment in any way. Raven turned to them.

**"It escaped,"** Anger growled. There wasn't really any reason to growl, but she had an image to maintain.

"Where to?"

"Everyone else doesn't know," Pride answered definitely. "They were hiding behind rocks waiting for you to arrive when suddenly the black thing that I was confronting bravely just upped and ran away like a coward. I'm sure I'll find it soon, though; I'm just too amazing not to."

"Yes, alright, thank you," said Raven between gritted teeth. "Knowledge; take me to where the negative energy was last time you saw it." Knowledge nodded and set off. "The rest of you will stay," Raven ordered, following Knowledge. "I don't want anything _else _to happen to the mindscape."

_"__Yay__!"_ Joy celebrated, punching the air with glee."We're staying here! Let's have a _party!_" A dark shadow passed over Joy.

**"How about not?"** said Anger in menacing tones, looming over Joy ominously.

"_Yay_ We're _not_ gonna have a party!" said Joy jubilantly, skipping away.

If the fullest extent of Anger's wrath had been expressed at that moment, the universe would have been brought to an extremely sudden and excessively violent end. So give thanks it wasn't.

* * *


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Love and Evil

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I suppose it's only fair to warn you; there are two _extremely_ fluffy scenes in this chapter. The first may seem slightly too late, but you try making a happy pairing with angst simultaneously. Also, to my unofficial beta reader; yes, it is intentional. Starfire uses apostrophes now. She's a fast learner, remember?

-x-

Tara had been through good times and bad times. Admittedly there had been more bad than good, but right now it all seemed worth it.

"I don't think I've ever been happier than right now," said Tara, in perfect contentment. She kissed Garfield lightly and snuggled up closer to him, the two of them lying side-by-side on his bed. "I love you, Beast Boy."

"Not as much as I love you, Terra," he replied lovingly, punctuating the 'you' with a light poke on the end of Tara's small nose. She chuckled playfully.

"You always could make me laugh."

"I'm hilarious, remember?" Garfield replied, cocking a roguish eyebrow at her.

"Oh…" Tara's smile faded. "I said that the first time we met."

"And it was the first time I ever saw you. I'll never forget it." Although Garfield couldn't possibly have been showering more loving attention on Tara, she didn't seem to be responding. For a frozen instant he feared he'd somehow frightened Tara; Garfield could already feel her retracting into her shell. "Terra… please don't go cold on me now," he pleaded, backing this up with a tender kiss. Tara responded to it gently, but without the obvious carefree passion of their previous kisses. There was something withdrawn about her, as though she was kissing in body but not in soul.

"I… still have the memories…" Tara whispered. She looked away, a shroud of her hair falling over an eye. Garfield noticed the pain in his beloved's voice and frowned in concerned sympathy.

"I do too. But all that's behind us," Garfield whispered back, trying to put Tara's mind at rest. "You saved the city. You undid all the bad you've done…" He looked away for a lingering second, and Tara glanced at him anxiously, hanging on his words. Then Garfield looked back, locking Tara's eyes inextricably into contact. "…and, even though it took me a while to recover, I forgive you."

"You don't have to. What I did was… inexcusable," said Tara, unable to look Garfield in the eye due to her overriding guilt but unable to pull away, instead hiding behind her fallen hair. "I acted like a total jerk. You trusted me, and… well, I know you loved me from the moment we met. And then I betrayed you."

"Terra, it's not your fault," said Garfield understandingly, giving Tara a reassuring squeeze through their intimate hug. "It's Slade's. He just used your insecurities to get what he wanted. It's not your fault you were afraid."

"You… You won't reject me, will you?" Garfield smiled lovingly. The frightened look in Tara's eyes made him want to hold her close to him forever – to take the flights and falls that she did and, if possible, take the falls for Tara.

"Never. Not now, not ever. I love you, Terra, and the fact that you love me back means everything to me. I'm gonna stay together with you, even though… well, I guess it's _because_ of all we've been through," said Garfield, gazing into Tara's scared blue eyes. "You betrayed me and my friends, yes, but even through all that I still knew I loved you. It wasn't something I could ever ignore. Somehow, I knew you still loved me."

"I tried to kill you," said Tara, frowning in concern.

"Terra, my life is already yours. Don't you see?" Garfield brushed his beloved's beautiful blond hair from her eyes, hooking it behind her ear with easy intimacy. "I love you, Terra. I'd do anything for you, except treat you bad. If you ever need me, for any reason, even if you just need me to be there with you, then that's where I'll be. I kept fighting for you, Terra, _for you_, because I believed that things could be made better. They have been, but I won't stop fighting. I still have to protect you from everyone who wants to hurt you. You are my reason, Terra. Even if the whole of the rest of the world turned their backs on you and rejected you, I'd stay by your side. You don't need to be afraid anymore, Tara Markov. You're safe with me."

Like ice melting, Tara's expression slowly unclouded and a smile hove into view on her lips, edging its way slowly on as if afraid it might be called back any moment.

"I… don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I'll stay with you for now, because you need me. Just ask if you need anything else."

Tara wordlessly held Garfield's gaze. For a moment, Garfield fancied he could see tears of happiness glistening in the corners of Tara's eyes.

"Thank you, Beast Boy," she said gratefully, her voice so fragile you could have shattered it with no more than the gentlest of touches. "Thanks for your suffering and your love. Thanks for everything."

Garfield smiled back at her. If the feeling between them could have been visualized, it would have been a softly glowing orangey-pink line, connecting their hearts and beating just as quickly.

"You're welcome."

-x-

The amorphous black miasma that Knowledge had labelled as negative mental energy drifted through Raven's mindscape. It wasn't sapient, self-aware or even sentient; it just acted on instinct, and right now its instincts were urging it to find… _something_. What exactly it had to find wasn't certain, but its instincts assured the negative energy that it would know when it found the something.

From a short distance behind, Raven and Knowledge shadowed the negative energy. It was strange, seeing the dark cloud drift along; the cloud somehow managed to be _even blacker_ than the total eternal night of Raven's mindscape. Knowledge had at first worried that they wouldn't be able to see the dark cloud of negative energy unless it stayed against the light rock, but, oddly, it was actually easier to see the cloud when it moved into shadow.

"So what exactly are going to do about it?" asked Raven of Knowledge. Knowledge pondered the problem as they flitted from rock to rock, just behind the dark cloud as it drifted relentlessly onwards.

They both knew which way it was headed; towards Raven's subconscious. The mindscape that some erroneously know as 'Nevermore' is in fact just a small part of her psyche's manifestation – the conscious part that she could control – and beyond its borders was a chaotic land of disorder and pandemonium which Raven had very little control over. Both Raven and Knowledge knew that they had to stop the black cloud from getting there, or at least divert its course back into the mindscape to give them enough time to come up with a contingency plan.

'Frontal attacks are useless: Anger and Courage as points in evidence,' Knowledge's mind churned out, racing through the possibilities. 'Mental and/or psychic attacks are also useless, seeing as how this thing has no mind to attack. Is it possible to trap negative mental energy?'

"Raven; try and box it in," Knowledge suggested. Raven nodded and the two of them summoned together slabs of stone, arranging them in a box-cage around the cloud.

For a breathless few seconds, they waited.

'Did it work?'

Then, as if the powers that be had been waiting for Raven to think that they might actually have succeeded before rubbing her face in it, the box dissolved… and the cloud re-emerged in a new form.

"What the…?" asked Raven incredulously.

The cloud was now no longer a gaseous mass. It had transferred itself into the rocks it had broken up and was now powering them along as one enormous snake. The same black energy shone from the rocks – its power was moving them from within.

'Note to self: negative mental energy has ability to animate and inhabit inanimate objects,' thought Knowledge, hurrying after the black rock-snake. 'Addendum: _traps don't work_.'

Raven and Knowledge had just broken cover when the rock-snake stopped, having continued its journey to the subconscious. They instinctively froze.

"We should probably keep moving and find someplace to hide," Knowledge suggested, in a whisper lest their quarry should suddenly decide to turn the tables.

"Good idea," Raven replied. They darted off behind another conveniently placed rock. Fortunately enough, the mountainous quality of Raven's mindscape provided many hiding places.

The rock-snake didn't move at all for a long while. The shining black didn't leave the rocks. In other words, nothing happened and continued not to happen for some time.

"What is it doing?" Raven asked, annoyed at this lack of activity.

"Nothing," Knowledge answered simply. Raven glared at her. "Well, you did ask."

"For all we know it could be resting or thinking; not necessarily doing nothing."

"How can it think when it has no brain or any kind of mind with which to think?" Raven did a quick extrasensory scan of the black rock-snake; no kind of mental activity revealed itself.

Both of them knew that the negative mental energy obeyed very few of the laws which life required to survive. Indeed, it wasn't alive; it just _was_, functioning like a living thing but not actually being one, like Bladerunner replicants.

"Alright, point taken; it's not thinking," Raven admitted. "That doesn't answer what it is doing. Why has it led us all the way out here to…?"

Raven's abrupt silence was far more scary than anything she could have said out loud. Knowledge peered at her inquisitively, the slightest twinges of fear manifesting on her face.

"…Raven? Are you alright?"

"No. Definitely not. We need to get out of here – _now_."

"What, you think it's set some kind of trap? But how can it be intelligent enough to set a trap when-"

"Robots don't _think_; they do as they're told!" said Raven, starting to become severely annoyed by Knowledge's pedantic nature. "Just because that thing has no mind does not mean some kind of higher intelligence is not directing it! Why else do you think it would have led just the two of us out to the very borders of my mindscape, out near the subconscious and away from the other emotions where we're most vulnerable? Answer me that!"

"…Point taken," Knowledge acceded, backing down. "So, how shall we go about returning to the others?"

"I am taking _no_ chances with that thing; it's already surprised us once and I'm not letting it do that again. We're teleporting back, right-"

And that was when the rock behind them exploded all around them, knocking the two to the ground. Teleportation, like all psychic powers, requires concentrated and focused mental energies, and it is incredibly difficult to focus on anything other than survival when you have just been assaulted by a giant black rock snake hurling itself into the rock you were hiding behind, especially when you've been lulled into the false sense of security that hiding behind a large rock can grant you.

Such was the black's strength that the rock had been reduced to shattered fragments and dust. It roused itself long before either Raven or Knowledge even thought of getting up and brought its long rocky tail around to slam into them, losing no time in the offensive.

Raven had been standing closer to the rock than Knowledge when the snake had struck and had therefore got the brunt of the impact. There was no way she was going to get out of the way in time, or even collect her mental energies to phase through the strike. Knowledge knew what she had to do.

Although teleporting was a complex process, what Knowledge did then, switching herself with Raven, was relatively simple; technically speaking they were just different aspects of the same entity, so switching the two of them made next to no difference. Even so, it made all the difference in the world to Knowledge.

Raven sensed the transfer and looked up urgently, coughing rock-dust out of her throat. Knowledge phased herself just in time; the rock snake would not be able to touch her now… or so they thought.

Raven then saw something she'd never known was possible. The black rock slammed into Knowledge, striking her with phenomenal force and crushing Knowledge against the ground – even though she was phased. How could it do that? Normal substances weren't supposed to be able to make contact with phased objects!

Raven already knew that the black energy was no normal substance, but she had never guessed that it was this powerful. It could animate inanimate objects; it could negate phasing… wait. These abilities seemed strangely familiar. Raven could do both those things too. As if she needed another clue, the negative mental energy looked like darkness. Could it possibly be any more explicit?

"Knowledge!" Raven cried out, trying to see if the emotion was still conscious. She waved a hand towards the black rock snake; a scythe of razor-edged dark energy swept towards their attacker. A shield formed, clashing with Raven's dark blade and dissipating its force.

That was the final, conclusive proof. This black… _thing_ had the same powers as Raven, and therefore had to be a product of her own mind – somehow. That 'somehow' could wait for later. Right now one of Raven's emotions was in grave danger from its antithesis, its poison, its perfect bane; negative mental energy.

Then, quite inexplicably, the black rock snake picked up Knowledge's limp body and rolled off across the mindscape, heading towards the subconscious once more. Raven followed, flying along just behind with wrathful haste.

_"Raven… __listen__ to me…"_ Raven could hear Knowledge's telepathic voice in her head, very faint and weak, which was no surprise considering what had just happened to her. _"You cannot defeat this thing. Return to the others… __go__ now…"_

_"I can't leave you behind!"_ Raven answered, doing the telepathic equivalent of shouting.

_"You must. This negative mental energy… is too powerful. I've touched it; felt its power and the will beyond it… you can't defeat it, not alone. Let it take me; you will not lose me as long as I continue to exist. Even if I go into the subconscious, you will be able to contact __me…"_

_"But-"_

_"The only reason it is going with me is because it thinks I am you."_ This made Raven stop dead.

_"You mean… whoever is controlling that negative energy wants _me_?"_

_"That is exactly what I mean. I cannot let them have you… go. __Now."_

Without another word, Raven fled back to the hub of her mindscape, hell-bent on escaping to the physical world. She had questions; questions that wanted answering. When Raven wants answers, she gets them.

-x-

"Why do we always seem to end up alone together, Robin?" asked Starfire, entirely innocently. They were sitting together on the edge of the roof. It was one of Starfire's favourite places in the tower. You could stare out to sea and be dazzled by the mirror-ball lights dancing and glinting on its surface.

"I… don't know, Star," Robin replied, not entirely honestly. He knew very well why, but it wasn't likely that he was going to admit that when he hadn't even admitted it to himself yet.

Starfire looked over to Robin and smiled. Robin felt the chill hand of destiny descending upon him. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the least prepared for it.

"You really are a good friend to me, Robin," she said. Although Robin's premonition hadn't come true, he didn't breathe that sigh of relief just yet. "I do not deserve such a faithful companion."

"Oh, well, you know," said Robin bashfully, trying and failing dismally to retain his usual stoic façade. It really was fascinating; he could face any number of supervillains at once and remain the resolute leader, but put him alone with just Starfire and Robin was suddenly an awkward teenage boy… and an inarticulate one at that. "I just… do what occurs to me."

Starfire scooted closer to Robin, not removing that warm, friendly smile once, and placed her hand delicately on his.

"It's nice having a boy who is just a friend. I do appreciate the gesture, Robin. Back on Tamaran, nearly every boy I knew was constantly trying to court me – it became rather tiresome." This completely fazed what little of Robin's mental defenses were left.

"…Huh?" Starfire chuckled at Robin's gormless expression.

"It was only logical. I am Princess to the Emperorship of Tamaran, after all; I would be willing to bet that there is not one male of my species who would not wish to be my partner."

"But there's more to it than just that," said Robin. To be perfectly accurate, it was some other Robin that was saying these words; the Robin that usually decided what he did didn't seem to have any control over this, despite his best efforts to stop it. "I mean, you've got power _and_ looks, right?"

Starfire blushed, giggling embarrassedly as a dark pink rose blossomed into being on either of her cheeks. Robin wouldn't have minded admitting (to somebody else who had never _ever_ met Starfire and had no possibility of ever doing so) that she looked absolutely adorable like that.

"Robin, please don't flatter me," said Starfire shyly, looking at Robin sideways but still smiling sweetly. "It makes you sound like you're trying to court me."

"Oh, _no!_ No, I, um… wouldn't dream of it," said Robin, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and returning Starfire's smile, again awkwardly. He noted that his breathing and heart rates had gone up. Damn you, adrenaline! "I mean, um…" Good old 'um'; it was always there when you couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You wouldn't really think of… becoming my partner, would you? Seriously, Robin," said Starfire, bowing her head slightly and looking up at Robin demurely.

'She's fluttering her eyelashes!' he thought desperately.

"No, no – no way. No. Not ever. I mean…" He took a deep breath. "…unless you wanted me to."

Robin was surprised in the extreme when Starfire sighed suddenly. An air of despondency seemed to fall on her with a great emotional weight, and she turned her eyes to the water, gazing soulfully at the glimmering white flecks on the waves.

"…You know, Robin… more and more these days I come to suspect that I should find a… male companion," said Starfire, finding diplomatic words with which to phrase the term, not moving her eyes to look at Robin. His attention turned away from his own feelings to those of Starfire, all concern for himself replaced by anxiety for his friend. "I feel that something in my life is missing. I feel that there is something I need – especially when I am alone… I feel there should be someone next to me."

"But… I am next to you, Starfire," said Robin tenderly, taking her hand and holding it in his.

"Yes, but you don't want to be my… boyfriend, as I believe the expression is," said Starfire, looking away even further. Robin's heart sank so far that, had you been at the bottom of the Mariana Trench with a flashlight, you would probably have seen it. "I respect your right to choose our form of relationship." Starfire turned back to Robin and gave him another smile – but it was injured this time, trying to be happy despite some inner ache. "I wouldn't want to force you into something you didn't want."

"But, Starfire… I do want this." And then, putting his arms around a pleasantly surprised Starfire, he kissed her.

Or, at least, that's what Robin had planned to do, except certain pesky things, like reticence, got in the way. Life has a script, but you don't get to rehearse it.

While Robin was still struggling to get the fateful words out of his mouth, Starfire gave him one last poignant smile, a quick squeeze of the hand and left, gliding back over the rooftop to the door. She was gone in an instant.

After unfreezing from the tension, Robin sighed dejectedly. It was a situation and a feeling he was used to, but it was made immeasurably worse by having come _so_ close. Generally speaking, it's easier on the mind to win third place rather than second.

-x-

Cyborg heard his custom doorbell ring and grinned to himself as a short burst of MC Hammer's 'U Can't Touch This' rang throughout his room. Setting aside his sonic screwdriver on the workbench and removing his visor, Cyborg strolled to the door and opened it.

"Oh. Hey Raven," said Cyborg, seeing the more-serious-than-usual expression Raven wore. "Is this about last night?"

"I can't remember. You tell me," she said, in perfectly level tones. Cyborg sighed wearily.

"So I was right about the memory block. I guess you'd better come in."

Raven stepped into Cyborg's room. He sometimes wondered how she kept her cloak perfectly closed like that; shouldn't the combined effect of her movement and the air she moved through force it at least a little bit apart? People who have studied Physics notice these things.

"Take a seat; there's the extra-comfy massage chair over there, but I wouldn't turn it on – it's still in the tweaking stage." Raven sat down… cautiously. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

"Can I be blunt?" she asked, bluntly.

"Uh… sure. No reason why not," said Cyborg, drawing up his workstation chair and to sit in front of Raven.

"There is a negative mental energy form in my mindscape. I have no explanation as to why it might be there. I feel that it could have something to do with last night, if only I could remember what happened. The fact that I can't remember may also have something to do with it."

"Yes, I'm afraid it might," said Cyborg hesitantly. "How far do you remember?"

"Up until I was about to go to bed," said Raven evenly, her hawk-like stare never leaving Cyborg once.

"Ah, right. Well… um… there's no way around it, so I'll just tell you; Starfire, Robin and I were worried that you were having… emotional problems with Beast Boy and Terra's relationship." Raven frowned.

"Oh… yes. I remember you speaking to me about that," she replied. "Let's skip lightly over this part, shall we?"

"Let's," Cyborg agreed, relieved. "Well, after that Starfire, Robin and I were concerned about you – whether you would be able to keep it together, what with the relationship. And, uh… we spied on you."

_"You spied on me?"_ Raven growled, rising from her seat.

"Yup, that's exactly what you said when we first told you," Cyborg replied casually, holding Raven's glare. This took Raven off-guard, and she sat down again.

"Fine, we can deal with that later," she said dismissively. "So what caused the negative mental energy form?"

"Well… we got you to talk with us about your feelings, and it led to you… losing your cool," said Cyborg slowly, afraid that it might lead to a repeat episode. Raven simply nodded.

"I see. My demonic self manifested, did it?"

"Exactly," Cyborg clarified, ready to run for it at the least provocation. However, Raven didn't seem on the verge of freaking out in any way. Quite on the contrary, she settled back into the massage chair, trying to avoid the knobbly bits.

"So how did this lead to the negative mental energy being created?" she enquired, with stoic determination.

"Well… when you flipped out, I used this," Cyborg explained, rolling over to his workstation desk on the wheeled desk-chair and retrieving a metal object that resembled a squashed hemisphere. Raven reached out a hand for it, and Cyborg handed it over.

"And what is it, exactly?" asked Raven, having given the device a visual and tactile once-over but, inevitably, not having been able to make any sense of it.

"It's a psychic suppresser," Cyborg answered, his fear of Raven's unstable emotions reduced – but not gone altogether. "I designed it to stop you from transforming into your demonic form. When applied to your head, it sends out a specially calibrated pulse of energy which disrupts any and all thought patterns for the space of a nanosecond, allowing the brain to, effectively, reboot."

"Couldn't you have used a less elaborate way of knocking me out?" Raven asked, looking up from the device.

"Not really. We've ascertained previously that your demonic side originates from your subconscious, since you have only marginal control over the transformation. Knocking you out would only have incapacitated your conscious self, which not only wouldn't have helped but may have served to make your subconscious demonic self all the more stronger." Raven nodded, lost in thought.

"I see..." Cyborg wasn't entirely sure he liked the way Raven said 'I see'. There was something chillingly calculating about the way she said it – coldly logical. But then, that was Raven for you. "Continue," she said.

"The event that triggered your transformation was… an incident. With Starfire," said Cyborg. "You lost your temper with her and, when your powers went haywire, ended up spilling your herbal tea over her."

"Was it still scalding?" Raven asked urgently. Cyborg breathed an internal sigh of relief; it was nice to see Raven display some care for another being. He nodded.

"Yes. Although it caused more pain than actual physical harm, you took it hard at the time. It doesn't sound right in my words; you were really shook up about it." Raven nodded again, a frown of thought on her face.

"Do you think it's possible that this… psychic suppresser, was it?"

"Mm-hm."

"Do you think it's possible that the psychic suppresser may have caused the negative mental energy to come into being?" Cyborg arched his fingers in the same way all experts use the world over when they're forced into committing their credibility to a concrete answer.

"I'd say it's highly possible that this is the case, yes," he answered, hedging on probability. After all, anything's _possible_, but not necessarily probable. "With hindsight, I can guess that suppressing your emotions so suddenly and without any outlet may have caused your advanced psychic powers to… malfunction."

"Hm." Raven continued to ponder.

After a while of silence, Cyborg spoke.

"You aren't angry with me?" Raven looked up at him expressionlessly.

"Angry? No. You didn't know the effects the psychic suppresser was going to have, did you?"

"I didn't," Cyborg answered, perfectly truthfully.

"So it's not your fault. Knowledge understands."

"Knowledge?" Cyborg knew a little of Raven's emotional avatars, thanks to his and Beast Boy's brief jaunt into Raven's mindscape – she'd decided she may as well tell them more about it, just to make sure they never went back in.

"Yes. The negative mental energy kidnapped her."

"Oh – I'm sorry, I…" Raven halted Cyborg in mid-apology with a hand.

"Like I said, you had no way of knowing. It's not your fault. As far as we know, Knowledge is safe. It could have gone worse, after all. The negative mental energy, or whatever higher intelligence is directing it, did want me rather than Knowledge. It was only by freak chance that we were mixed up."

"It wanted _you_?" Cyborg asked, mystified. Raven nodded.

"Indeed it did."

"But… why?"

"That is _exactly_ what I want to know," said Raven slowly, spacing out her words. She looked up at Cyborg, and out of the darkness of her hood was the steely glint of a determined eye.

* * *


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Second Reason

* * *

It was somewhat amusing watching the Lord and Master of Fire walking across water. He trod like a cat, wincing slightly at every step as it sizzled, raising a small plume of evaporated water. In fact, Rothfar didn't actually have the ability to walk on water – he just loathed water so much that he managed to hover a millimetre above it.

The Ever-Flame was approximately halfway across the bay when the water reared up in front of him, like a two metre-tall extremely thin wave. It slowly shifted, bit by bit, into a vaguely humanoid shape; a snake-like head with eyes and a mouth, and two curved arms that came out from its sides and formed into fists. It had no legs, instead disappearing down into the sea like a tree into the earth.

Rothfar sighed wearily at this intrusion. Small tongues of flame emanated from between the jagged teeth he had for lips.

"Stand aside, water spirit," he said, giving a _very_ good impression of someone trying hard not to lose their temper. "I only wish passage to the tower on that island."

"_You may not pass,"_ the Spirit of the Bay intoned in a voice of rushing waters.

"…What?" asked the Ever-Flame eventually, after having tried to work out what it was the water spirit was saying. As you might have guessed, the Lord of Fire had less than intimate relations with the world of water; it would have been like an American or Briton knowing fluent German during World War II.

"_You… may… not… pass,"_ the Spirit reiterated, in the slow and deliberately loud voice used when talking to morons. Rothfar seemed to get the gist.

"Ha! You would dare to defy the Lord and Master of Fire? So be it – see how far it gets you," said Rothfar arrogantly. He continued to walk forwards, straight towards the water spirit, and was more than a bit put out to find himself waking up a good distance away a few seconds later. He noted, with mounting displeasure, that his armour was coated in water.

The Spirit of the Bay reappeared before Rothfar as he stood. The Ever-Flame growled, super-heating all his armour to the point where the water that soaked it spat in its attempt to escape.

"_You may not pass,"_ the Spirit repeated. _"I have the sanction of my mistress, the Lady Shaswë."_ To save Rothfar the effort of translating, the Spirit summoned the symbol of the Seal of Water which hovered, translucent, in mid-air; a white equilateral triangle on its right point, like a 'Play' symbol, with an aqua-coloured circle in it.

"That does not explain why you are powerful enough to temporarily extinguish me."

"_And also the sanction of the Lady Nereya."_

The Seal of Earth appeared opposite the Seal of Water. Rothfar swore in his native language, causing several filament light-bulbs in the city to explode. He might have been able to overcome the power of a single seal, but two combined…

"They would conspire against _me_? Why?" he demanded irately.

"_Because Lord Rothfar cannot be allowed to access the earth-moving human."_

"That is not a _reason_, water spirit," said Rothfar, growing increasingly ferocious; the jet-black flames that wreathed his skull flared dangerously. "Do not make me evaporate you."

"_That is all I was told, save this; if you wish to access the earth-mover, you will enter into conference with the two Ladies and do it on their terms."_

"I bow to _no-one!_" the Ever-Flame roared, all his fires igniting and pluming outwards in his anger. The water spirit simply dodged a stray column of fire, unperturbed. If it'd been human, the Spirit might have yawned contemptuously.

"_That is the message I was given,"_ said the Spirit in a bored drawl, as though it had better things to do like… oh… I don't know; picking anemones or something…"_If you wish me to communicate a message to my Lady, then I would be more than happy to serve your Lordship."_

"Very well, water spirit, tell your Lady _this_," Rothfar growled, saying 'water spirit' like Robin would say 'Slade'. "I am Rothfar, the Ever-Flame, Lord and Master of Fire, and I stand second only to the union of the Ka In Ta. If she wishes to divide the Tetrarchy, then so be it; I will forge my own allegiance with Aeron. Beware, Shaswë, _and_ Nereya; nobody slights me without incurring terrible vengeance. You will **pay**."

"…_That's all?"_ asked the Spirit of the Bay, sounding distinctly underwhelmed.

"_Yes."_ With that, the Ever-Flame turned about moodily and marched off back to the access portal, trailing steam as he went.

The Spirit chuckled to itself as it watched the sulky Fire Lord stomping off.

"_Never fear, human earth-mover. You are safe with me."_

-x-

Cyborg was, to say the least, thoughtful. Lunch is very often a good time for thinking, because you usually can't talk with a mouthful of food.

It was actually rather odd, to think that Cyborg, an excellent chef by all accounts, was more than happy to settle for a submarine sandwich filled with various scraps left over from the aftermaths of previous meals. Still, Cyborg hated waste, and if anyone was going to eat the left-over food it had to be him. Who else had the necessary bionic dietary modifiers to deal with the mysterious blue fur?

He glanced sideways and saw Robin looking similarly preoccupied as he munched moodily on a salad. At least, one had to assume it was a salad, because no other kind of food is meant to be that shade of green.

"You too, huh?" asked Cyborg sympathetically. Robin seemed to resurface from whatever reverie he'd been in.

"What was that?"

"You got something on your mind, great leader?" Cyborg queried, taking another hefty bite from the sub.

"Try asking what I _haven't_ got on my mind; I might be able to give you an answer shorter than your sub." Cyborg swallowed and observed the sub. It was actually quite short now, but then he had been hungry.

"Yeah, well. Is it anything I can help ya with, Rob? 'Cuz, you know; we're a team and all," said Cyborg, reaching for his milkshake. Robin shook his head, not looking at Cyborg.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Cyborg. This is something I have to deal with on my own." Cyborg nodded.

It couldn't be all that important a problem if Robin didn't even feel the need to tell anyone about it. Sure, he often gave the details then forbade them to help him, but that was just fulfilling his 'lone avenger' job description.

A door opened. The familiar swish of a cloak greeted their ears.

"Hey Rae."

"Hi, Raven."

"Hello." Raven stopped and looked sideways at them to deliver this greeting, then scanned the room. She looked back to the boys at the table. "Where's Starfire?"

Robin appeared to find something disgusting in his food at this point, scowling as he bent his head to look at it closely. Cyborg answered instead.

"I think she's in her room. Star looked a little… well, not exactly sad, but then not exactly happy, ya know?" Raven nodded in reply. "Don't you want anything to eat?"

"Not just now… although I think I'll take Starfire some mustard," said Raven, walking over to the fridge to retrieve said condiment. To tell the truth, she felt as though her stomach had been replaced by a miniature black hole, but there were more important things to worry about for now than satisfying the id.

"Good idea. You can take the special Dijon if you want; that might cheer her up." Raven nodded, this time in thanks. She took the brand mentioned, and a straw, before leaving wordlessly. Robin's mood had not ameliorated by the time of her departure.

Raven knocked on Starfire's door and waited patiently. She noticed that Starfire's answering time was longer on this occasion, and duly made a mental note.

"Oh… hello, friend Raven," said Starfire, making an effort to smile. "Do you wish to come in?"

"Yes. I have something I want to talk with you about." Raven brushed aside her cloak and offered the Dijon mustard and straw to Starfire with both hands, like a peace offering. Starfire nodded, somewhat absently, and gratefully accepted the gift before standing aside to allow Raven in.

Although Raven's room held the most fear for the Titans, it was Starfire's room that Raven associated most with, if not trepidation, then at the very least distaste. You must understand that, to someone who spends most of their personal time in gloomy grey and black surroundings, Starfire's predominantly pink and orange-yellow room was a sight that made eyes sore. Still, it was a necessary evil that had to be endured.

Raven proceeded straight across the room to one of the windows. It was open. A soft, pleasantly cool breeze swept in, fluttering the pink curtains.

Starfire stood behind her, staring at the back of Raven's hood. Realising that her companion was taking time to compose her thoughts and words, Starfire went to sit on her bed and take some solace from the Dijon.

"Starfire…"

She looked up from the glass pot.

"Yes?"

"About last night." Raven turned and looked directly at Starfire. Her candour could sometimes be a bit disarming, but Starfire was used to it by now. "I don't remember, but I still want to apologise. Cyborg said I attacked you with still-scalding water."

"It wasn't your fault-"

"It was entirely my fault," Raven interrupted, standing stock still beside the window. "So, I apologise for hurting you." There are different kinds of sincerity, most of them emotional. Raven's sincerity was one of the kinds that wasn't.

"…Friend Raven, I…" Starfire paused, and then shook her head as if telling herself that she was doing this wrong. Starfire stood, leaving the Dijon on her bedside table, and walked towards Raven until they were but a couple of steps away. "I most sincerely appreciate your apology, but right now it is… well, meaningless to me," said Starfire truthfully. "I had already forgiven you by the time I talked to you this morning. That is not what troubles me."

"Then what's wrong?" asked Raven, sensing easily that Starfire was in need of comfort. As long as it wasn't one of those embarrassing Tamaranian rituals, then she would be more than happy to help out a friend – possibly her best friend.

"I…" Starfire looked away, through the window, staring at the sea. Raven followed her gaze, more through impulse than anything else, and then looked back to Starfire.

"Yes?"

"I feel… alone," said Starfire, staring Raven in the eyes once more. Raven was disturbed to see this normally effervescent girl's face clouded by so dark a mood as loneliness – that was something Raven expected to see in her mirror.

Raven sighed inwardly. This was going to require compassion. Despite Raven's dwindling reserves of said quality, she rallied her emotions and drew closer to Starfire.

"You're never alone, Starfire," said Raven, dredging up from the uncharted backwaters of her memory various things people had said to her in the past. "You've got us; your friends."

"No, friend Raven, it's not that," said Starfire, frustration as well as loneliness showing on her face, in her eyes. "I know I have friends, and I am thankful for that, but… I feel the need for something more than friendship."

Raven actually let her eyes widen – such was her surprise. She'd never have thought that such an attractive girl as Starfire would have any trouble finding a partner.

"Well, first things first," said Raven in her practical manner, quickly overcoming the surprise. "Is there anyone you'd like to be with?"

She tried to act as if she didn't know the answer already. As soon as the question had been asked, Raven could sense by means of telepathy exactly who it was and how Starfire felt about him. It was to Raven's ESP like standing next to one of Cyborg's speakers, suddenly turned on with full volume, would be to us.

Normally, like most benevolent telepaths, Raven made a point of not reading people's minds unless permitted to, but in this case Starfire's thoughts were so fervent and obvious that they were more or less broadcasting themselves – it would have been impossible for Raven _not_ to receive them.

Starfire seemed to pick up on this and looked up at Raven, shyness adding to her already fraught expression.

"Don't you know?" Raven sighed lightly. She didn't like to lie, so she didn't.

"Yes, I do. Robin." Although Starfire blushed furiously at the mention of his name, she nodded in affirmation. "Doesn't he return your love?"

"No, no…" Starfire turned away. As Raven coolly observed the young alien girl, she couldn't help but feel sorry for Starfire. It must have had something to do with the forlorn bowing of her head, or perhaps the sudden dullness of Starfire's normally glittering green eyes. "He doesn't love me," she intoned. "He's the best friend I could wish for… but no more than that."

"_Raven, you know for a fact that isn't true. Tell her."_

"_What the-?"_

"_Just tell her,"_ 'said' Knowledge. _"Tell her now, before the moment is gone."_

"Starfire… what if I could prove to you that Robin does love you?" asked Raven, putting as much forthrightness into the suggestion as she dared. This succeeded in piquing Starfire's interest, for she suddenly turned back to look at Raven, the light of hope kindled in her eyes.

"Could you really…?"

"I don't know. But if I could, would you accept him?"

"Of course I would!" said Starfire, her liveliness returned. Raven just pushed back a smile. Despite being a half-demon, it was nice to bring happiness into others' lives. "Do you think you might even be able to get him to kiss me?" asked Starfire, taking a step closer.

"Don't get too eager, Starfire," said Raven in answer, wondering how much more of this rampant romance she could take. "I don't know how I'm going to go about it yet."

"Either way, I am greatly obliged to you, friend Raven," said Starfire, smiling warmly once more. You could practically feel the enthusiasm humming within her, like a running car. "Thank you so much!"

Raven's eyes widened as she saw Starfire take more steps towards her. She held out a flat palm, warding Starfire off.

"I'd… rather you didn't," said Raven, trying not to sound too harsh.

Starfire gave Raven a look of entreaty. There was just so much innocent pleading in Starfire's face that Raven couldn't possibly have endured it for much longer than a few seconds without being thankful that she hadn't eaten anything for hours.

"Oh… alright. If you must," Raven acceded grudgingly.

Starfire gave a small cry of delight and gleefully hugged the reluctant half-demon. Raven would have returned the hug, only she was a bit more concerned with reinforcing her ribcage.

"Thank you again, friend Raven," said Starfire effusively, releasing Raven. Raven made quick steps towards the door for fear of a repeat hug. "If you ever have need of anything whatsoever, please call on me."

"Have no fear," said Raven dryly, turning to wave goodbye to Starfire before stepping into the corridor.

"_Well now, that didn't go too badly, did it?"_

"_Hold on there, Knowledge. Where are you now?"_

"_In your subconscious,"_ Knowledge replied. That explained why her telepathic 'voice' was a bit fuzzy.

"_Right… have you been able to find out anything more about the negative energy and who might be controlling it?"_

"_I'm afraid not, no… as soon as I was hauled into your subconscious it locked me up in some weird cell made of burning stone – don't worry, I'm not badly hurt. I can still contact you, though, as well as see and hear through your eyes and ears as before."_

"_Good. Well, if you find out anything new, like how I can help get you out of there, let me know right away, okay?"_

"_Will do."_

"_Thanks for the encouragement with Starfire, by the way."_

"_Ah, but I was merely a facilitator. You were the one who gave her that most precious of gifts."_ Raven's brow creased momentarily as she tried to work out what Knowledge was alluding to.

"…_Hope, you mean?"_

"_Exactly. Now Starfire has hope, her normal vivacity has returned to her. Next, you must be the catalyst. Just see to it that Robin fulfils his romantic duties to Starfire, and all shall be well."_

"_I shall, Knowledge, I shall. Farewell."_

"_And you, Raven. I'll keep in touch."_

Knowledge's presence receded. The telepathic link had been severed. Quite unexpectedly, two other presences were approaching – in the physical plane this time.

Raven knew who they were, and the mere thought of facing those two made her want to phase into obscurity and flee. However, she considered herself above such a cowardly act and turned to face her demons, so to speak.

They were both laughing when they turned the corner. Then the sight of Raven, hooded and cloaked standing right in the middle of the corridor, seemed to instantly kill all thoughts of mirth.

From the shadow of her hood, Raven stared at the two of them in turn, her gaze coming to rest upon Terra.

"Hello, Terra. You're back, I see." No 'happy to see you', but then no 'get out right now' – just simple statement of fact. Raven was so nothing sometimes it was frightening.

Either way, Terra put on a brave face and stepped forward to confront the blue cloak and shadowed hood.

"Look, I know you hold a grudge against me… especially after that fight." Terra had the decency to look shamefaced, whereas Raven retained the stolid expression of the righteous. "I betrayed all the Titans, but the things I said to you were… well, really cruel. I just wanted to take advantage of your control issues – I didn't think about how much it might hurt you at the time. I was consumed by hatred."

"And that's supposed to make it better?" asked Raven.

Beast Boy swore he could feel the room temperature go down by about three degrees. Still, he felt he should do something. He'd sworn to protect Terra, after all, and this was a prime opportunity to do just that.

"Raven, that isn't fair," said Beast Boy, standing by Terra. Raven's laser-like stare latched onto him instead.

"Is anything?" she replied flatly.

"She took advantage of your control issues, yes, but Terra had them too! Sometimes you act like you're the only one around here with problems. Let me tell you, Raven; you don't need to be dark and tormented to be insecure. If Slade had come to you, back when you were new to the team and didn't know anything about him, and Slade had said he could give you full control of your powers, would you have turned him down? And don't lie to me," said Beast Boy grimly, glaring at Raven. "I act stupid sometimes, but I know you well enough."

Raven was more than a little surprised to be given such a tongue-lashing by the famed jester of the Titans. She was, for once, wordless, giving Terra time to think.

Although Terra was obviously and justly proud of her beloved for coming to her defence like that, she felt that he might have gone a bit too far. Raven was not a person you wanted to cross, and Beast Boy had just said quite a few inflammatory things.

Hoping to repair the bridge, Terra gently moved a surprised Beast Boy aside. Raven looked back to Terra, just as confused as Beast Boy as to what she was doing.

"It's true, Raven," she began earnestly, holding Raven's stare with perfect calm. "I couldn't control my powers, and I still can't – not now that Slade can't help me anymore. But I don't need his help. There are other people; more worthy people, who understand what it's like to not be able to control yourself. I really want to rejoin the Titans, and if I'm going to do that then I don't want to have to hide from you or think of another argument every time we meet. I'm not saying we have to be best of friends, but, well… I really want this to work, Raven. Is there any chance you could forgive me for what I did to you?"

And, because the universe has certain rules and conventions that are impossible not to follow, Terra put out her hand towards Raven. The eyes in the shadow of the blue hood flicked down to the outstretched hand, then back up to Terra's own light-blue eyes.

Beast Boy looked on with bated breath – this was the stuff of TV Land.

There was a long silence, during which Raven and Terra held each others' stares with equal resolve. It was almost like time had frozen them into a tableau. No pin would have dared to drop, for fear of fracturing the fragile tension into a million shattered pieces.

"…On two conditions," said Raven, after the long pause. She brushed aside her cloak, revealing her right hand by her side.

"And those are?" Terra asked.

"One; you don't question me about the second condition."

"…Alright," Terra agreed slowly. This was odd, but then it depended on what the second condition was. "The second condition?"

"I want to see you," said Raven unemotionally, looking at Beast Boy, "kiss her." Raven's eyes flicked back to Terra.

Terra's outstretched hand fell.

"You want _what?_" she demanded disbelievingly.

"No questions," said Raven formally, reminding Terra of the first condition. "And it must be a proper kiss, too; such as you might do in private. Do you accept these terms?"

Terra glanced to Beast Boy. They appeared to reach a consensus.

"No," said Terra resolutely.

"Then I won't-" Raven began, letting her cloak fall back over her hand and starting to turn away.

"Wait. I'll accept if you give me a good enough reason for why we should show you something so personal as a kiss." You could have used Terra's voice to beat out steel.

Raven turned back to face Terra properly.

"You want to know why?" she asked flatly.

"I do."

"…Very well," Raven acceded. "I want to see you two kiss so as to prove that Terra is sufficiently uncorrupted to warrant her absolution."

"Wait, wait… how is that supposed to work?" asked Beast Boy, stepping forward with a puzzled expression on his face. Raven noticed his proximity to Terra.

"Evil works through hate. Love is the one thing that precludes its existence."

"But that's not true," Beast Boy objected calmly. "What about jealousy?"

"One who loves purely can never feel jealous," said Raven coldly. "Trust me, Beast Boy. I know evil. I was born of it."

"So you're saying that I can prove I'm not evil by kissing Beast Boy?" asked Terra, still feeling more than a bit offended.

"As you say," Raven replied, turning her attention back to Terra.

"Alright, I can see the logic, but… isn't it a bit… well, sick?" she asked, with obvious distaste.

"How so?"

"Kissing is something Gar and I do alone together. Having you watch while we do it would feel… wrong," said Terra decisively, frowning at Raven.

"But how is it 'sick'?"

"You have to agree it is a bit creepy, Raven," said Beast Boy. "There's a word for it…"

"Voyeurism?" Raven suggested.

"…Yeah," Beast Boy confirmed grimly. "That."

"I can assure you that I have absolutely no voyeuristic intentions. This is simply a matter of proof." Raven spoke these words entirely truthfully, but as usual she wasn't revealing her full motivation.

"…Fine then," said Terra, facing Raven staunchly. "If that's the price I have to pay to get you to forgive me, I'll do it."

Raven looked on intently as Terra embraced Beast Boy, taking in every last detail.

'Give me just one reason, Tara Markov,' thought Raven gravely. 'Just one reason… because if you don't love Garfield truly and purely, I _will_ make you suffer.'

-x-

The negative mental energy proceeded onwards through Raven's subconscious. It had locked Knowledge away as she'd said earlier, but could not rest just yet. Some higher purpose called it; drew it inexorably towards a certain point in the exact centre of the subconscious mindscape.

It reached the place it had to go, amongst the turbulent hurricane of twisting colours that was the subconscious realm. Nothing had shape or form here – that was the role of the conscious mindscape. The subconscious des not operate on reason. It is ruled by forces far older and more powerful than mere sapience.

Still, that is what was gifted to the black cloud. As it hovered in the midst of the subconscious, it suddenly found itself to be _thinking_, and, indeed, to be.

'_...I am. I am… what? I must be something, since there has to be a being thinking these thoughts. Wait. I'm thinking? Yes. So what is it that's doing the thinking?'_

"**Welcome to your new domain, Erebus."** The negative energy would have jumped if it had been human, but instead it trembled in surprise, not knowing where this omnipresent voice came from amongst the swirling maelstrom of the subconscious.

'_What? Who are you?'_ it replied, casting about with what limited senses it had.

"**I am the being who has given you the capacity for reasoning. I have given you knowledge. Very shortly, I will be the one to give you great power, but that will come in its own time."**

'_What was it you called me?'_

"**Erebus. I have decided this is a good name for you; it describes you well. It means 'inner darkness' in Greek."**

'_Erebus…'_ The negative mental energy slowly adjusted to the fact that it was a being in its own right, and that it had a name of its own. _'Yes. I am dark. This makes sense. But what am I inside?'_

"**You are inside the subconscious portion of a teenage girl's mind; the one who is indirectly responsible for your creation. She is a half-human, half-demon hybrid. Her name is Raven."**

'_How is she important?'_

"**Raven is not all that important just yet, but with your help I can make her great indeed… for now, I give you sovereignty over her subconscious mind. You may fashion both yourself and your domain as you wish, but you will serve me."**

'_I _shall_ serve you… but how am I to call my master?'_

"**You shall call me as others do. You shall call me…"** You could practically hear the sneer through his deep, growling voice. **"…Trigon."**

-x-

**Author's Notes:** Wow! I bet you feel as though your fingernails are being _wrenched_ off hanging onto that massive cliff, huh? Well, don't you worry; the answers shall be revealed… but truth isn't necessarily beauty, despite what the poets may say.

* * *


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: The Veil Falls

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I know it's been an eternity and a half since I posted the last chapter and you've probably all forgotten about me and settled down to raise families by now, but here it is anyway. I don't know why, but these days I don't seem to get any writing done, so the likelihood of a second episode is very small.

(You might want to go back and read the last chapter to refresh your memory, yah? D)

Either way, enjoy the last chapter. And review _pweeze_!

-x-

"I still can't believe we actually did that," said Terra irritably, biting into a slice of tofu-topped pizza with a goodish amount of vim. Beast Boy rolled his eyes briefly; this was not the first time or even the fifth she'd said it.

"You said yourself that it was a price worth paying to regain Raven's trust."

"Yeah, but… that doesn't change the fact that there was something essentially _wrong_ about it." Beast Boy had to agree with this – he couldn't act as though he hadn't been incredibly nervous during the kiss, what with Raven watching them like a hawk.

"Alright, I see your point, Terra, and I agree with you… but what's done is done. There's no sense in arguing about it now. Besides, you know we can trust Raven to keep it secret; she does not go around blabbing confidential information to every person who stands still long enough."

"Like you," said Terra, smiling playfully at Beast Boy. She'd decided that he was right about the irrelevance of talking about matters past, and instead chose to alleviate the sombre mood she was responsible for having created.

"Hey, I may be talkative, but I can keep a secret," said Beast Boy, smiling despite the severe tone he used.

"Alright – prove it then," Terra challenged him. "I'm going to tell you a secret so astoundingly improbable that, if any of the other Titans find out about it, they will be forced to ask me just to find out whether or not it's true. That way, I'll know for certain if you can keep a secret or not."

"Fine," said Beast Boy decisively, full of machismo. "Bring on the secret!"

Terra scooted over closer to Beast Boy and, taking a furtive look over her shoulder to make sure nobody else was listening, whispered the secret into Beast Boy's ear.

The telling took a few seconds. Anyone watching would have laughed to see how Beast Boy's eyes slowly widened as far as they could go over the course of those seconds. By the time Terra pulled away, Beast Boy looked at Terra in a totally new light.

"Seriously?" Terra nodded, grinning quietly. "No kidding?" he asked again, unable to believe what he'd just heard.

"I swear what I just told you is absolutely true," affirmed Terra, placing a hand on her heart.

"Even the part about the-"

"_Especially_ that part."

"…Oh." Terra took advantage of Beast Boy's befuddlement to steal the last slice of pizza. _"Hey!"_

-x-

"**You were not successful in retrieving Raven's core consciousness?"** asked Trigon. Erebus was a bit puzzled as to why his master had no discernible form, but let it pass.

'_I don't know. I know I brought something back.'_

"**That was merely the emotion known as Knowledge, more correctly Curiosity. Still, you weren't to know. I wasn't able to give you proper reasoning ability, out there in Raven's conscious mind; my influence extends only as far as her subconscious."**

'_Do you wish for me to return to the child's conscious mind and retrieve the core?'_

"**No; it probably won't be there. Even if it was, her meddlesome emotions are prepared by now. No, no… it would be far easier to simply wait in here. Raven will come looking for her Knowledge, and **_**then**_** – we strike."**

'_But I had trouble enough with just two of them,'_ Erebus reasoned. _'There were far more than that. How am I to stand against all of Raven's emotions combined?'_

"**That is what the subconscious is for. See…"**

With that, Erebus suddenly found it was a he, with a proper corporeal form. He was a tall, gaunt figure, clothed only in bedraggled black robes and equally dark and messy ruffled hair.

His skin wasn't so much a thing in itself as the shadows it made. Being perfectly white, you could have been mistaken for thinking that the unclothed parts of Erebus' body were invisible.

Erebus opened his eyes. Whether they were black, white or just not there was doubtful, because staring at them for too long made you feel as though your head was full of angry bees.

"Yes," said Erebus. He spoke for the first time with a real voice – but there was something that was just as unreal about it. It sounded smooth and sophisticated, but also larger than it was, for all the sense that makes. "I See."

There was something horribly wrong about Erebus' way of speaking that seemed to hover just on the edge of your hearing, impossible to pin down but evidently there nonetheless.

"**I have a good amount of control over Raven's subconscious, but because you were created from a rift within it you have even more control over this realm than I. Use it, Erebus; shape it to your will, so that when Raven comes we shall be unstoppable."**

"It Shall Be As You Wish, Master Trigon," uttered Erebus. Trigon retracted his psychic focus, satisfied that his new servant would fulfil the purpose set for him admirably. He had other plans he could now set into action…

Erebus slid his eyes from side to side, not moving for a few seconds after Trigon had left. Then, all of a sudden, he cast his arms wide, his robes hanging from them like torn drapes. His fingers shaped themselves into contorted claws, grabbing and snatching.

The randomly surging and pulsing energies of Raven's subconscious streamed into several discernible patterns, growing gradually darker, then darker still. Order was created from chaos – and the new order was black.

-x-

Raven staggered, quickly putting a hand on the kitchen tabletop to stop herself from falling. She knew a psychic ruction when she felt one, and this particular tremor had been of a colossal order.

It took a few seconds before Raven realised she'd stopped breathing – she'd had to deal with the blinding surge of psychic power first. Standing upright, hoping that her legs wouldn't give out again, she opened her mouth wide, trying desperately to pull oxygen into her lungs.

Raven gasped, feeling the cool air once again flow into her. Although she had come out the other side of this ordeal without any lasting damage, it had still shaken her. It's not everyday an occurrence in your mind causes you to become temporarily incapacitated.

She looked around swiftly. Nobody had noticed. Raven breathed a sigh of relief, giving thanks that she was able to. The last thing she needed was people crowding around with anxious enquiries; this was Raven's problem and hers alone. None of the others would understand, anyway.

Raven decided it was time to make a quick call.

"_Knowledge. What in Hell was that?"_ Raven enquired, direct and to the point.

"_I don't know, Raven – I'm still locked in this cell,"_ Knowledge replied, her telepathic 'voice' scratchy and slightly distant, like before._ "Whatever it is can't be good, though; from what little I can sense, your subconscious is being rearranged in a big way. There's a lot of power flowing around."_

"_So? That's what it's like normally."_

"_Yes, but this time another mind is ordering it."_

Raven's blood ran cold. Surely her father couldn't…? But maybe he'd found a way around it?

"_Can you sense Trigon there?"_ Raven asked urgently.

"_No. I thought for a second I could, but it was just a trace. There's another mind that I've never sensed before. It has our father's influence, but… I can't understand. It's different."_ Raven considered this gravely.

"_Alright… thanks, Knowledge. Be careful."_

"_I'll just have to rely on the goodwill of my captor,"_ said Knowledge, perfectly deadpan. _"Until next time."_

The link was again severed. Raven had other things to be worrying about – as if she didn't have enough on her plate already. Chanting her mantra under her breath to calm down, Raven assembled the food she'd gathered and took it over to the TV table, where Robin was sitting.

"Hello Robin," she greeted coolly. Robin looked up from channel surfing, slumped as he was against the couch. There were far more positive ways of sitting or lounging.

"Oh… hi Raven," said Robin, slightly less than overjoyed. He made an effort to sit up properly, since he had company.

Raven took at least one bite from a sandwich before saying another word. Altruism is all well and good, but it's difficult in the extreme to concentrate on anything with a gaping hole in your stomach.

'Now, the problem here is how to approach this,' Raven thought, reaching for the mineral water. She wasn't going to carry around anything above room temperature after last night's incident. 'I can't take the direct route, otherwise Robin will instantly clam up, like he usually does when you ask him a direct question about a subject he sees as sensitive – and if any subject is sensitive for Robin, girlfriends is definitely going to be one of them. I know I'd get evasive if someone asked me about prospective partners…'

"You seem somewhat under the weather, Robin," Raven observed, looking up at the lugubrious teen superhero.

"Yeah, well… that's not exactly anything new," Robin replied, with a distinct lack of any enthusiasm.

"I hope it's nothing that will impede the workings of the team," said Raven, with innocent concern – something that didn't come easily to her. Still, it worked; Robin sighed at length and turned off the television, seeing as how there was less than nothing on (although Beast Boy might have objected to this).

There was a minor crisis at this point, because Starfire has just entered the room. Raven handled the situation in her inimitably calm fashion.

"_Starfire. This is Raven. Do not look at me or Robin. It is essential that you do not let slip anything about my promise to you or it might put Robin off, understand?"_

"_Of course, friend Raven. Good luck."_

For all the downsides, there were advantages to being a human-demon hybrid. How many people can use telepathy to send private messages?

"No, no… don't worry, Raven," said Robin, meandering on in the same lacklustre fashion. "It's just a passing thing. No doubt I'll feel better about it soon."

"Why? Is it anything I could help you with?" Robin seemed to seriously ponder this question before answering.

"…No. You probably wouldn't want to."

'Well, so much for the subtle approach,' thought Raven. 'Let's take this further.'

Setting aside her sandwich for the nonce, Raven moved to sit a space away from Robin on the couch. He noticed her change in propinquity and threw her a questioning glance – intimacy was not normally something Raven 'did'.

"If you don't mind me saying so," said Raven in a low voice, not wishing to garner any unwanted attention from the already-established couple at the dining table, "your aura feels to me as though it is well and truly isolated."

Quite predictably, Robin's brow furrowed. Raven explained.

"Telepaths such as I can perceive an aura around every being that is capable of experiencing emotion." This was true. "Very often, someone's aura can tell us how they're feeling." This was also true. "Right now, your aura seems to me to be isolated, meaning that you feel lonely." This was complete bull. There was no such thing as an 'isolated aura'. Fortunately, Raven had enough credibility in matters of the mind that Robin swallowed it hook, line and sinker.

Robin sighed again – he was practically full of forlorn sighs right now.

"You got me," said Robin dourly. "I'm lonely."

"I could help you with that." Raven lowered her voice to a whisper; the happy couple, BB and Terra, had moved over to the kitchen area to talk with Starfire, and now were potentially within hearing range.

Robin looked at her oddly, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked, uncertain.

"Of course. I say what I mean," said Raven definitely, staring sincerely at Robin. "I know a certain girl who would be more than happy to be yours. In fact, she wants you go up to her and kiss her right now."

This warranted an arched eyebrow from Robin.

"Are you sure?" he asked incredulously. Raven felt that an encouraging smile would help at this point, so she smiled at Robin.

"Absolutely sure," she whispered. "Go on; do it. You don't have to be lonely if you don't want to be."

There was a long moment while Robin simply stared at Raven.

"…Alright," he consented, at long last.

-x-

Erebus looked around himself, and saw that it was good. Or, rather, he saw a landscape of towering black jagged crags, plumes of volcanic fire and a sky that broiled with blood-red clouds. What people perceive as good differs from person to person.

Now Erebus was clothed in a proper robe of mystic darkness that resembled his inchoate form. It swirled around him in wispy tendrils, subliming into the air like fuliginous black flames. It coated every last bit of his invisible skin, leaving only the piercing gimlets that were his eyes uncovered.

Atop his head was the diadem of his dominion; a crown of darkness which seemed to glisten sickly with some infernal inner power. From its sides, wings that looked as though they'd been taken from a demonic skeleton-bird swept back along the length of the crown.

"Yes," said Erebus, with obvious satisfaction. "Just One Last Thing..."

He stretched out his left arm, pointing with a single clawed finger towards a patch of scorched and barren earth. The clouds above swirled around the point directly above the patch of ground he indicated, turning into a vortex that moved slowly faster and with increasing intensity, crackling, hissing and spitting, until finally-

A single blinding flash of light obliterated the darkness and embedded itself deep in the ground, where even now Erebus still pointed. A second later, a deafening thunderclap disintegrated the crags that surrounded the area, showering the uncaring Erebus with rock detritus.

Ugly red weals insinuated themselves outward from the point of contact, cracking the ground and pulsating with a sickly and unnatural purple glow.

Erebus smiled. There was something innately frightening about something that should have meant happiness, but in fact meant anything but.

"It Has Been Planted," Erebus announced to his unknown enemies. "Now… My Domain Shall Grow, And Corrupt All It Touches. This Girl's Subconscious Is Merely The Start. Once She Is Fully Mine, My Influence Will Extend Ever Outwards. I Know Not What There Is Beyond The Reaches Of This Mindscape, But It Shall Fall Before Me. _Everything Will Fall Before Me_."

Erebus threw up both his clawed hands to the tormented skies once more, throwing his head back and howling ancient and terrible words of power. The storm raged, more lightning struck… and seeds, not of growth, but of decay, began to fester in the dark heart of Raven's subconscious.

-x-

Terra and Beast Boy looked around themselves at the empty main room. They could not have possibly been more perplexed.

"I _would_ ask you what just happened, but you seem to have even less of an idea about it than me," said Beast Boy, glancing back at Terra.

"Well, let's review the chain of events," said Terra, deliberately staying calm. She sat on the edge of the kitchen counter and counted off on her fingers. "There was a noise from over by the couch, so we turned to look. We saw, in plain daylight, Robin and Raven kissing. Starfire looked completely destroyed by this. Raven, alarmed, realised they were being watched, and teleported out. Robin stared wordlessly at Starfire for a few seconds, then Starfire rushed headlong from the room, obviously just about to burst into tears. Robin followed her, leaving us alone together."

Beast Boy took a seat next to Terra on the counter. It must have been a potent indicator of their relationship that, almost without thinking, the two of them put an arm around their beloved and rested their heads gently against the other, as though it was the most natural thing anyone could do.

"Shouldn't we go and find out what happened, so we can help?" Beast Boy suggested, looking sideways at Terra. She shook her head decisively.

"Definitely not. If we go into a situation unprepared, all sorts of bad stuff could happen, especially since we don't have a clue what's going on. We should just try and stay out of it," Terra reasoned. "The last thing I want is the rest of the Titans getting angry with us because we interfered."

Cyborg entered, quite suddenly. He saw Terra and Beast Boy nestled together and briefly considered leaving straight away.

"Sorry, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked. Although Beast Boy seemed to be a bit jumpy, pulling away from Terra slightly, she laughed and pulled him back close.

"No, no," said Tara happily. "You're not interrupting anything." Cyborg shrugged, trying to smile back at Tara with the same levity. He looked around.

"Where is everybody?"

"Ah… that's… a bit complicated," said Beast Boy, wincing.

"Why, what happened?"

Tara looked sideways at Garfield. Cyborg knew that a wordless contest of wills was taking place in front of him.

"You tell him," said Tara lightly, winning. "I've already done it once."

Garfield sighed wearily, and grinned briefly at Tara before getting down off the counter to explain properly to Cyborg.

"Okay, Terra." She smiled back sweetly, not removing her eyes from him once.

He began.

"Well, the story goes something like this…"

-x-

Vorlan looked at his desk. It was cluttered with various papers and stationary items. There is an office maxim that goes 'tidy desk – tidy mind', but as far as Vorlan was concerned it was the people who had tidy desks that you really needed to watch. Nobody's mind should be truly tidy; that was the point of computers. Minds were meant to be messy, so they could think in new and exciting ways.

He stood and stretched, yawning deeply. The fatigue of a long and unspeakably dull day at the office was apparent in his action, and there was even more paperwork to do, even after all that had already been done.

Vorlan's pen appeared to be dancing across the desktop, bouncing on its clickable end across the desk's paper-inundated surface. 'Click, click, click', it went.

"How much longer are we going to be?" Vorlan acted as though a pen talking was a perfectly ordinary occurrence and glanced at the black and white clock on the grey wall.

"Quite a few hours yet, I'm afraid," he answered, taking a sip from the coffee mug on his desk before sitting back down and loosening his tie a bit.

"For crying out loud," said the pen, clearly disgruntled. "We've been in here _ages_."

"You're telling me," Vorlan replied, smiling dryly. "It's times like this that I miss action out in the field." He leaned back in the fuzzy grey swivel chair, his ice-blue eyes misting over as he reminisced about the pretty good old days.

"I'll never forget it," said the pen, having stopped bouncing on the desktop as if it was also reminiscing.

"There's one thing I never understood, though," said Vorlan, frowning in deep thought.

"What?"

"Why didn't you ever bond permanently with our sword, like Narib?" The pen shrugged. How exactly it did this is not easily told, but shrug it did.

"No idea. It just never seemed right." Vorlan shrugged too, deciding that the matter wasn't all that important right now.

"Ah well. It's probably best that you never bonded permanently with our sword, seeing as how we work in a stuffy office these days," said Vorlan, disdainfully waving a hand in the air to indicate the stale environment around him.

"Then again, maybe if I'd stayed inside the sword they might not have allowed you in the office," said the pen. Vorlan barked a laugh.

"Yes, I suppose that's possible." The phone rang, with that highly annoying 'Bee-beep! Bee-beep!' noise, rather than a proper '_brrrrrrring!_' like any decent telephone. "Excuse me a sec," said Vorlan, answering the call. "Hello; Truth Bureau, Time and Causality Department; Vorlan Demonbane speaking. Yes… _what?_" The pen jumped back in fright as Vorlan suddenly rocketed up from his seat to his feet, pushing back his chair so fast it fell over when it hit the wall. "Alright, sir – I'll get on it right away." He didn't so much hang up the phone as guillotine it, and then practically leapt to get his coat.

"What is it?" the pen asked, bouncing to the forward edge of the desk.

"They've given us a real job," said Vorlan, excitement obvious in his voice. His eyes were sparkling when he looked back at the pen. "I'm ready for it. Are you, Zenna?"

A plume of what looked like blue smoke poured out of the pen, forming a perfect sphere of shimmering blue – exactly the same shade as Vorlan's irises. There was a single bright dot of white at the sphere's centre, shining with unsurpassed refulgence.

"You bet your life I am," said Zenna the blue spirit, Vorlan's enthusiasm spreading to her as well. Vorlan smiled.

"Good, because we're going right away." Pausing only to snatch his coat from the back of it, Vorlan whipped open the door and strode through. Zenna followed hastily.

"Where have we been sent?"

"Earth, Alternate Reality Code 12952910," said Vorlan, already having memorised it perfectly. "Apparently there's a small team of adolescent superheroes we have to meet up with; something big will go down shortly, and we have to be there to make sure there's no reality fractures."

"Wow. Certainly _sounds_ big," said Zenna appreciatively, dodging around a co-worker as they dashed headlong along the corridors to the weapons closet. "A team of adolescent superheroes, you say?"

"Yeah. Don't know much about them just yet; we'll find out more in the official briefing. Apparently they're called the Teen Titans," said Vorlan, pulling on his long brown overcoat. It flapped out behind him as he walked and made him look rather dashing, though he says so himself.

"The Teen Titans, huh? Cool. Let's go."

-x-

**Author's Notes:** And that concludes this episode of the Alternate Reality series! There will be more of course, but not just now. I'm sorta hoping they'll all be this length.

I'm really sorry if I've upset any shippers with the whole Raven/Robin/Starfire confusion; I swear to you that the whole debacle _will_ be sorted out in the next episode, through a number of highly emotionally charged scenes and lots of romantically fluffy moments _(insert heart-meltingly cute sigh here)_.

Well, did you enjoy it? Write me an _extra_ long review, my loyal readers, or I might just decide not to write the second episode **(insert growl here)**. Vorlan has only really just been introduced, and I hope you liked Rend's new form; you'll learn more about the Familiar Spirits in the next episode.

And don't be angry that I've left so many cliff-hangers and unresolved plot-lines, what with the aforementioned love triangle and Erebus' mysteriously evil doings in Raven's subconscious, not to mention the big stuff that Vorlan mentioned will shortly be going down, and then of course there's Trigon's plan. Well, okay, you can be angry if you _really_ want to be, but it's just to keep you reading.

The official finishing date was 18th December, 2007, and that is the day on which I am writing this. There will probably be extensive editing, but that don't count too much. Have a Merry Christmas, or Happy New Year! Knowing me I'll probably be eons too late to catch the New Year, but whatever.

Check in for the next episode soon (or when I get around to writing it, whichever gives me more time), and be sure to read my other fics too!

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